Valeriana Natassa
by CharmedArtist
Summary: Harry strikes a deal with a vampire and ends up getting far more than he had expected... (Canon compliant till the end of the fifth book but with a whole bunch of invented back story. How much do we know about Potterverse vampires, after all?) No slash, potential Dumbledore bashing, kickass vampire!
1. The Beginning

A/N: I took the occasional lines of text from the original for Dumbledore's first few appearances, but otherwise this is entirely my brainchild! Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Violence, gore, sexual undertones.

OoOoO

It was dusk at Privet Drive, and a boy with messy black hair was slowly making his way down the street. His hands were in the pockets of his oversized trousers, a remote-controlled car stuck under one arm as he sullenly walked back to the place he lived over the summer.

The air was surprisingly cool for a summer evening, but Harry was in no mood to enjoy his stint in the freedom he was unlikely to see for the rest of the summer. Honestly, just then he would rather have been locked in his room – at least there he'd have the peace he wanted.

His hands clenched inside his pockets as he remembered the way his relatives had jeered at him after Mr. Weasley had told them in confidence that Sirius had died. "Just like your parents, dying like an idiot," Aunt Petunia had sniffed, and Harry had nearly struck her. Except that Uncle Vernon had got there first, backhanding him across the face and sending him crashing into the wall before telling him to go fetch Dudley's toy car from the park where he'd left it. At the time Harry hadn't been sure whether he wanted to hurt the man or just go far, far away, and eventually he had settled on flight, not fight – as so often before.

Easing slightly into the shadow of one of the identical houses, Harry stopped and looked up at the sky.

"Sirius," he whispered, closing his eyes and trying to fight down the feeling of emptiness he felt. Inhaling shakily, he opened his eyes – and started at the sight of a human-sized shadow dropping from the roof in front of him. Then, quicker than he could react, he was spun around and pushed up against the wall; he felt his magic surge in alarm and the person froze, deep blue eyes widening.

"Wizard," she breathed, and he saw fangs flash. A vampire – and judging by the way she was panting, one that needed blood desperately.

Harry blinked once, making an irrational, impulsive decision. "Go ahead," he offered, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Just don't take too much, please."

A flash of shock crossed the beautiful face before she made a sound of surrender and sank her fangs into his neck.

Harry winced slightly, but compared to the Basilisk bite in his second year the two pinpricks were nothing. Then a strange lassitude took over his body, and he realized that vampires must somehow calm down their prey when they bit them. He heard sucking but couldn't feel it, which was an altogether strange sensation, and once he felt himself go lightheaded from blood loss he weakly nudged the vampiress.

"More and I'll faint," he said somewhat drowsily, and he felt the woman's body tense slightly before she released him. Staying propped against the wall, Harry blinked and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

"Huh," he said when he got a first good look at his would-be attacker. "You don't dress like I imagined a vampire would." She cocked an eyebrow and he smiled somewhat apologetically. "Well, you know – black and red, corsets and sexy dresses, that kind of thing..."

Instead she was dressed in an oversized grey sweater, black leggings and boots, even though she could have pulled off the stereotypical vampire outfits perfectly with her milky-white skin, angular features and glossy black hair.

The vampiress snorted slightly, licking a drop of blood from her lower lip. "I spent more time than I cared for wearing a corset; you believe that given the chance to wear a more comfortable style without standing out I would not take it? My kind is hardly popular among mortals, and wearing clothing that leads everyone to immediately think of a vampire, regardless of whether they believe us real or not, would be the height of stupidity."

Harry's smile was sheepish now. "Er, sorry," he apologized, wondering if he was blushing despite the blood loss. A thought crossed his mind: Could vampires smell a human's blood more strongly when they blushed?

"Perhaps the next time you will consider things more carefully before assigning stereotypes, young mortal," the vampire said drily, but Harry noticed that she didn't actually seem annoyed – maybe this had happened often enough that she had gone past annoyance and into indifference.

"Sorry," Harry repeated sheepishly, glancing away before returning his gaze to her face. "I meant no offense."

There was a slight pause. "None taken," the vampire conceded eventually. "You did do me a small service, and as such it would be remiss of me to take offense to a small slight."

Harry raised his eyebrows, though he couldn't keep a smile from tugging at his lips. "You call that a small service?" He had freely offered her his blood, after all – he wouldn't call that small.

"You seem to think you are the first to give me such a service," she retorted drily, sizing him up with her eyes. He found himself blushing again, but the smile remained.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "Do you need anything else?"

"...You are remarkably foolish," stated the vampire. "One wonders how you managed to remain alive for the few years you have, if this is how you treat a complete stranger. Especially one who could have killed you."

Harry shrugged exaggeratedly. "Eh, well..."

The vampire made a sound that in a lesser being would have been called a snort. "I have need of a room," she said. "Perhaps you could point me towards a hotel."

"I'm afraid there aren't any around here," Harry said apologetically. "The only one I know of is the Leaky Cauldron on Diagon Alley."

The vampire tsked. "That is far too far away." She cut off the question he was about to ask. "I am not a high-level vampire," she said.

At his curious look she shook her head slightly and asked, "Do they not teach you about vampires at your institution? There are vampires who were magical before being turned, and vampires who were not. I was what you would term a 'Muggle' before being turned. As such, I am capable only of very limited magic, and unfortunately, magical transportation is not one of them. The more magic I accumulate from magical humans, the greater my own magical core grows and the more I am capable of. You understand however that it is not often that I can drink from a wizard."

Harry hesitated, then made a suggestion he was sure Hermione would kill him for.

"Why don't you stay with me over the summer? I'll let you drink my blood and magic, and in return you can teach me about vampires. How does that sound?" He looked up at her but couldn't get any impression of her thoughts from her blank expression. "I mean, you'd need to stay out of my relatives' way, and I might not have much time during the day, and I'm sure you were on your way somewhere else-" To his surprise, a finger on his lips stopped his rambling.

"You are perhaps the most foolish human I have ever met, young mortal." Her blue eyes looked at him evenly, and Harry wondered whether she ever blinked. "However, I accept your trade. In exchange for a place to stay and a steady supply of nourishment I will teach you about vampires. I will warn you, however," her gaze turned slightly cold, "if you think to tell anyone about my presence in your life, whether during or after my stay, you will come to regret it." It wasn't an empty threat, Harry could tell.

"I wasn't planning on telling anyone," he replied honestly. A few seconds elapsed before his companion replied.

"Very well." Taking a step back, she gestured for him to precede her. "Lead the way, young one."

"Please, call me Harry," he said as he passed her. She could be centuries older than him, and still being called young rankled when he was nearly sixteen and had been through more than most adults.

He couldn't hear her footsteps, but a short way later she spoke again. "Valeriana."

"Valeriana," he echoed, testing the sound of it. "That's a nice name."

A soft huff was her initial reply to the compliment. "I was once told that it is a good name for a vampire," she replied, keeping her voice down now that they were in the street. "Valeriana officinalis is the Latin name for the plant Valerian, which is used in medicine as a sedative, an antiseptic, an anticonvulsant, a migraine treatment and a pain reliever. It is especially used to treat insomnia and anxiety. What the other vampire found entertaining is that as a vampire, my bite has a soporific effect on my victim, countering the pain from the bite with an excretion from my teeth that has pain relieving and antiseptic properties. These factors often lead to the human becoming more relaxed, tired and content – comparable to the effects of the Valerian herb."

"That's really cool," Harry said, knowing his interest was audible in his voice. He was somewhat surprised that she had explained in such detail – it seemed she was serious about upholding her side of the bargain.

"It has its uses," she replied levelly, and he couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

"I'm sure."

Then they were back at Privet Drive, and Harry took a steadying breath before approaching the door and opening it as quietly as he could. Listening for a second showed that his relatives were all in the living room watching TV, and Harry slipped into the house, gesturing Valeriana to go up the stairs. She gave him an unreadable look before going silently up the steps, entering the room he pointed at when she looked back. Only once she was out of sight did Harry ease the front door closed – just loudly enough that it would make a slight sound, so that his relatives would know he was back, but not so loudly that it would disturb them.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon roared, and Harry flinched reflexively.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he called back, trying to keep his tone respectful.

"What took you so long?" his obese uncle yelled, the usual angry edge to his voice. "Go make us some popcorn!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said, trotting to the kitchen and swiftly preparing the food. About five minutes later he was able to carry a large bowl of salted butter popcorn in to his loving family.

"Took you long enough," his uncle grumbled, grabbing the bowl out of Harry's hand and spilling some of it in the process. "Clean that up," he spat. "Can't have popcorn on the floor." With that he turned back to the telly, ignoring the boy beside him as effectively as his wife and son were.

Harry mutely crouched to pick up the few pieces, eating them once he was on his way up the steps. No use letting good food go to waste, after all – he could use everything he got. He left Dudley's toy on his cousin's bed before going to his own room.

When he entered his bedroom he found himself pinned with Valeriana's level gaze. "Are they always so loud?" she spoke, and her voice was just over a whisper without sounding like she was trying to be quiet.

"Er," Harry said awkwardly, turning to close the door as quietly as he could. "Yeah, pretty much. Will that be a problem?" Meeting her eyes, he wondered again whether she ever blinked.

"Vampires have better hearing than humans," she said simply, and Harry felt a spike of concern.

"Are you alright? If you'd prefer not to stay here I'll understand," he knew that she was unlikely to stay; his relatives were terribly loud even with regular human hearing, and he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable when Aunt Petunia next started screeching at him.

The vampire eyed him silently for a long moment before turning away. "I believe I will remain for the night at least," she said, sitting down on the edge of his bed and turning her vivid blue eyes back on him.

"Alright," Harry nodded. Crossing the room quietly – almost unconsciously avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked – he went to one of the wardrobes and rummaged around in it, eventually pulling out a ragged and faded quilt. It had presumably once been quite nice, with vivid colors and a fine pattern, but by the time Aunt Petunia had shoved it away in Harry's room it had obviously been through many years of hard use. Laying it on the floor by the window, Harry folded it in half to form a makeshift mattress – only big enough for him to lie on if he curled up, but since he always slept curled up anyway it didn't matter. A blanket cover with several holes and ragged edges joined it on the floor, followed by a very large and equally damaged stuffed animal that the boy laid at the head of the makeshift bed, clearly intended for use as a pillow. He didn't notice the minute frown on his companion's face as she looked from the bed – covered in obviously worn, but carefully kept bed things – to the ragged assortment of trash Harry had just pulled out of a wardrobe for use as a bed.

"There we go," Harry said softly, straightening as he looked over his handiwork. Glancing over at the vampiress sitting quietly on the edge of his bed he said, "It's nothing much, but this way you can have the bed." He turned away and headed to his desk, missing the momentary flash of surprise that crossed his companion's face at the realization that the ragged makeshift bed was not meant for her.

Harry sat down at his desk, flicking open the door to Hedwig's cage and carefully lifting his friend out, leaning away from her with a slight smile when she spread her wings. "Hey, Hedwig," he said softly, stroking her soft plumage and smiling at the way she leaned into the touch. "Let me introduce you to Valeriana; she'll be spending the night with us, and maybe longer than that, if the Dursleys aren't too loud." His wry smile suggested that he doubted that would happen. Standing slowly, he walked over to Valeriana with his owl perched on his forearm. She was heavy now, but he knew that she, like him, would weigh less by the end of the holidays.

"Valeriana, this is Hedwig, a very good friend of mine. My best friend, really," he said with a soft smile as he gently pet her folded wing. "She'll be spending the summer here, so I hope you two can get along."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Hedwig," Valeriana said gravely, inclining her head to the owl. Harry however saw her eyes flick to the window, which had bars over it, before glancing at the door that she couldn't have missed the locks on, nor the cat flap.

"It's not a trap," he assured her, and supposed from the way her eyes snapped to his that he had guessed correctly. Though how he would have set a trap for a vampire who had attacked _him_ , he didn't know. He grimaced slightly, walking back to the desk and letting Hedwig hop onto the wooden surface.

"They'll lock us in, but you can leave whenever you want," the boy said, moving to the window and carefully prying out two bars that he had managed to loosen and eventually pry out the previous summer. It had taken a while, since Uncle Vernon had needed to replace the entire window after the Weasleys ripped it out with their flying car, but by the end of the summer he had created a space big enough even for him to fit through. Not that he had tried to escape through the window, but he figured by tying a rope to one of the intact bars he could get up and down if there was a need. He had really just pried out the bars so that Hedwig could come and go when she wanted to, and as the silent vampire watched on he fetched Hedwig and held her out the window, quietly wishing her a good hunt before replacing the bars.

"...So," he said awkwardly, turning back to the woman who was watching him with an inscrutable expression. "It's probably best if the Dursleys don't find out you're here, so if anyone looks in could you please hide if it's possible? If they do see you I'm not sure whether it's safer if they know you're a vampire or think you a Muggle," he grimaced, "though if they know you're a vampire it should scare them long enough for you to get away..." He wasn't sure what they'd do to him if they found her, but they'd probably just knock him around a bit before locking him up again, and if they didn't feed him he could probably get his friends to send him some food.

"What are you getting out of this?" the vampiress asked abruptly, and he refocused on her face.

"...Pardon?"

"What gain are you receiving from this?" she repeated, her voice slightly on edge. "You have relegated yourself to sleeping on the floor, giving me the bed, warn me that I may be in danger from your family," Harry couldn't help the tiny flinch he gave at the word 'family', "and advise me to flee should they discover me, clearly knowing that they will punish you for it. You yourself are locked in a minuscule room while telling me that I am free to leave whenever I wish, and give me free reign to drink of your blood and magic for the duration of my stay. The only thing you ask for in return is to learn about my kind." Her voice was cold, and Harry couldn't guess at her emotions past the obvious suspicion.

"There must be something more," the woman concluded, standing and holding his gaze with cold eyes. "So, what is it that you are getting out of this supposed 'deal' of ours." The question fell flat, and Harry furrowed his brow.

"I learn about vampires, people that I only learned very little about in school and that I have heard might ally themselves with Voldemort. I get something worthwhile to do while I'm locked up in this room," he swept his arm around the bare room, every item in it shabby and second-hand, "and some decent conversation during a summer where normally I'd only have the Dursleys and a few letters. Quite frankly, I think my end of the deal is a lot better than yours," he frowned up at the beautiful woman before him. "You have to hide in my room, unless you sneak in and out at night like Hedwig, and entertain a human teenager, all for a bit of blood that you could get anywhere. There are loud, annoying humans around that would hurt you if given the chance, and nothing in this room to occupy you unless you like tinkering with broken stuff," Harry snorted. "As I said, I'd understand completely if you want to leave."

And still the vampiress looked at him with that inscrutable expression.

"I could not get blood like yours anywhere," she said finally, and Harry blinked. Before he could ask what she meant, though, she explained, "It is extremely hard to prey on a wizard. To attack a wizard is to court death, for the accidental magic such an attack nearly always results in is often fatal for the vampire unless they are particularly high-level and have sufficient magic to defend against it. That is why I am limited to preying on Muggles – I would not have attacked you earlier had I known that you were a wizard, particularly one so young and powerful. The instances of a wizard willingly giving a vampire continued access to his blood and magic are ones of legend, nearly mythical in their rarity. The deal you made me, should you keep it for the remainder of the summer, would see my magical level rising dramatically, indeed to a level that I might not reach for many more centuries otherwise. Drinking of your magic every day for the following month would see me becoming a mid-level vampire, capable of magical feats I had never considered attainable, while leaving you incapable of casting magic during that time. There is," her voice took on a slightly grudging note, "a chance that it might either positively or negatively impact your magical core to have it drawn upon in such a way. Typically casting magic regularly causes the core to grow, but it is possible that it requires a period of rest to be capable of further growth." Her head twitched slightly as though she had been about to shrug. "I know not enough about the magical cores of humans to tell."

Silence fell as Harry considered the things the vampire had just told him, but eventually he shrugged and met her eyes again with a slightly mischievous smile. "Well, let's find out, shall we?" With that he turned and walked to another wardrobe, opening it to pull out a t-shirt that he knew was at least three times too wide for him. "Er, you're welcome to any of my clothes, if you'd prefer to wear something else to bed, but none of it's nice at all," he said to Valeriana with an apologetic look as he draped the t-shirt over the back of the lone chair in his room. None of Dudley's hand-me-down trousers fit him without a belt, so he had long ago gotten into the habit of wearing an old t-shirt like a nightgown. When he turned back to the wardrobe he suddenly found the vampire standing next to him and jumped in surprise, mentally reproaching himself for forgetting that she could move completely silently.

She gave him a level look, then, to his surprise, apologized. "My apologies," she said, turning back to the wardrobe. "I did not intend to frighten you." Reaching into the wardrobe she pulled out a dark blue long-sleeved shirt that was almost the shade of her eyes. "If you do not mind, I would borrow this."

"No, go ahead," Harry said immediately. "I'm afraid all the trousers are huge, though..."

"It is no problem," Valeriana refuted, holding the shirt up to her front. "It is long enough that I will not require further clothing." Harry swallowed slightly when he saw that the shirt didn't even reach mid-thigh with her holding it against herself.

"That's good," he said, thankful that his voice sounded normal even though he was wondering what he was thinking when he invited a beautiful woman to spend the summer in the same room as him. The thought of her sleeping in his bed with her long legs completely uncovered was one he quickly pushed away. Closing the wardrobe firmly he froze, hearing footsteps on the stairs.

"They're coming," he hissed to his companion, wondering briefly why she frowned as though she didn't hear anything. Even so she immediately moved to stand in the small space between desk and wardrobe, and Harry, realizing that his makeshift bed was glaringly obvious from the doorway, shoved it under the desk and dashed over to stand at his bed, twitching back the covers just as Aunt Petunia reached the top of the steps and pushed open his door.

"Last chance before I lock the door," she snapped, looking as so often as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. Mutely Harry straightened and walked past her, using the loo and brushing his teeth before going back into his room and hearing the locks snap into place behind him. Sighing in vexation – wasn't it so lovely to be back 'home'? – he looked up to find blue eyes watching him once again.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he frowned slightly. "I'm sorry – it didn't even occur to me – but-"

"Vampires cease to have such bodily functions," Valeriana cut him off, clearly knowing what he meant. "We are magical creatures, and the blood we drink does not need to be expelled at a later time. Vampires are unable to digest other nourishment. I would not be averse to bathing, but," again that slight twitch of the head that was like an aborted shrug, "I have gone without before." She considered him for a moment, then added, "I thank you for thinking of me."

Harry flushed. "Anyone would have," he dismissed it, but the way her expression changed minutely suggested she disagreed. "But anyway," he said hurriedly, walking past her to pull his things back out from under the desk. "Shall we?"

Silence was his only response, and Harry arranged his bed, self-consciously stripping off his shirt before Valeriana spoke.

"There is room enough in the bed for two," she said, and Harry froze.

Kicking his brain back into gear he reached for the oversized t-shirt draped over the back of the chair and put it on, practically swimming in it. "I'm fine, thanks," he said without turning, taking off his trousers under the shirt while trying to imagine that it was just one of the other guys on the Quidditch team standing behind him as he changed.

There was another long pause as Harry carefully folded his clothing. "As you wish," finally came the answer, and shortly after Harry heard the rustle of the vampire changing near the door. Blushing furiously and trying very hard to imagine it was Oliver or one of the Weasley twins changing behind him, Harry crouched to fiddle with his makeshift bed some more. Then he heard the familiar sound of wings and quickly stood to remove the bars from the window so that Hedwig could get in.

"Hey, girl," he greeted her quietly as she landed on the windowsill, moving aside so that she could hop into the room. Closing the window, Harry replaced the two bars – Uncle Vernon had had them placed on the inside of the room the second time around – and sat down on the folded quilt where Hedwig had landed.

"Did you have a good hunt?" he murmured to her as he stroked her head. Hedwig's soft hoot was reply enough for him, and he smiled. "I'm glad. Valeriana and I are going to bed now, so you'll be quiet, right?" She hooted again, but Harry frowned slightly as a thought occurred to him. Looking up and finding that Valeriana had gotten into the bed and was once again watching him he asked, "I thought vampires don't sleep?"

"We do," the woman answered easily, "but not as much as humans. We tend to be somewhat drowsy after feeding, however, just as you might care for a nap after a particularly filling meal, so I am quite ready to rest. I should awaken after a maximum of five hours, though as I have never drunk magic quite as potent as yours I am unsure whether I may not rest for longer."

"Interesting," he commented honestly, smiling slightly at the head-twitch the vampire gave. "Anyhow," Harry said, stifling a yawn as he shooed Hedwig off his bedding, "good night, Valeriana."

A rustle as she lay down, then: "Good night, Harry."

OoOoO

Valeriana ended up staying beyond that night, and within a few days Harry could say with complete honestly that it was the most interesting summer he had spent at the Dursleys' to date. Apart from a few chores and a lot of verbal abuse the Dursleys mostly left him alone, keeping him locked up in his room with the vampiress they didn't know about. Rather than only teaching him about vampires Valeriana shared of her expansive knowledge; history had never been so interesting before. As she was born a Muggle and had apparently had little contact with wizards she couldn't teach him about magic or the wizarding world, but he learned more about Muggle history, culture, geography, and trivia than ever before. Learning about vampires, too, was fascinating: He had known before he had met Valeriana that vampires could only turn humans under certain circumstances and not with a simple bite (otherwise he wouldn't have offered her his neck that night), but there were just so many things he had never heard of.

"Vampires tend to walk alone," Valeriana had told him, but even so they had a kind of culture that was mostly a hierarchy. Age and magical power were the defining points that gave you your rank, though since the two factors didn't necessarily go hand-in-hand the hierarchy was somewhat hard to define.

"One could say that the more dangerous you are, the higher you are in the hierarchy," Valeriana simplified it. "That is why many vampires learn martial arts. Vampires that were magical before being turned rarely learn any martial arts, preferring to use their magic, but nearly all previously Muggle vampires learn to defend themselves physically until they have amassed sufficient magical power. Thus, the oldest vampires are typically also the strongest, though there are comparatively young vampires that have high standing in the hierarchy due to their natural magical power."

"Where in the hierarchy are you?" Harry asked curiously, and she looked at him unblinkingly. Not that she ever seemed to take her eyes off him – Harry felt rather observed, but he'd rather have her impartial gaze than the Dursleys' resentful ones, the Hogwarts students' alternately awe-filled or wary ones, or Snape's loathing one.

"It is difficult to say," she responded levelly, "for the hierarchy is ever in flux and no one knows how many vampires there are. However, I was low-level magically and haven't a fifth of the age some of the older vampires have, so I was relatively low in the general hierarchy. However, should we continue our current routine," her brief look at his neck reminded him of her nightly feeding, "I will have risen considerably in magical power and as such will have higher standing." Then she shrugged slightly, the movement as always nothing more than a twitch of her head. "The hierarchy really only matters at a vampire ball, but I am not high-ranking or well-connected enough to be invited to those. The few times I met a lone vampire it was typically a matter of the stronger vampire being the one who walked away unscathed. In those cases rank in the hierarchy is determined by survival."

Harry was intrigued. "Do vampires attack each other often? And why?"

It was impossible to tell what emotions the vampiress was feeling; her expression always remained perfectly level and her gaze never wavered. Harry felt that it would unnerve others, but somehow the absence of emotions calmed him in a way even Mrs. Weasley's obvious affection didn't. There was a pause – Harry almost thought it was hesitation – before Valeriana replied. "It is not widely known, even among vampires," her eyes told Harry that to even breathe a word of it would mean his death, "but drinking a vampire's blood strengthens the drinker. Permanently. It matters not whether the drinker is a vampire, a werewolf, a human, or any other species you can think of; the effects are the same." She tilted her head slightly as she regarded him. "Were you to drink of my blood, you would gain physical strength, advanced healing capabilities, improved sight and hearing, and faster reactions. Were I magically more powerful than you perhaps you would also receive a boost to your magical core, but as there are no records of an underage wizard drinking a vampire's blood it is difficult to say precisely what changes you would undergo."

Harry frowned slightly in thought. "If drinking another vampire's blood strengthens a vampire, why don't two vampires simply keep drinking each other's blood?" He almost thought she looked appreciative, but that was silly. It must have simply been his imagination, since she looked just as expressionless as always.

"While drinking of another vampire's blood strengthens, it also unleashes a desire, a need to drink the blood of other vampires," the woman answered, not mentioning how she knew with such certainty. "The vampire will then commence to attack other vampires in a bid to drink their blood, and as such in the vampiric community, to drink of another vampire's blood merits the death sentence. Twice I have been attacked by such vampires; one time I was forced to kill in self-defense, while the second time I was sufficiently stronger to capture the vampire and bring him to trial. He was executed minutes later."

The teenager hesitated slightly before asking the question he wasn't sure wouldn't offend her. "How did they execute him?" To his relief, her expression didn't change at all.

"Fiendfyre," she replied succinctly.

"What's fiend fire?" Harry asked curiously. He'd never heard of it before.

"Fiendfyre – spelled together and with a y, as was the old spelling of fire – is Dark magic. Magical fire that consumes anything it encounters, cannot be doused with water, and takes on the form of magical creatures when fed. When contained, however, fiendfyre can be used very effectively to permanently destroy anything – including vampires. If normal fire is used to destroy a vampire there is still the possibility of using a ritual to bring back the vampire from the ashes, but with fiendfyre absolutely nothing is left of the body." At his intrigued and somewhat unsure look she seemed to decide she trusted him enough to tell him about possible ways to kill vampires. "Crosses, garlic and holy water – none of those will stop a vampire. Even a wooden stake through the heart will only injure us, as we do not rely on our hearts for survival as humans do. Blood flows in our veins, but our hearts do not beat. No, the best ways to incapacitate a vampire are by beheading, cutting off the limbs, pinning or restraining – keeping in mind our superior strength and wandless magical abilities – or burning. To completely kill a vampire, nothing but fiendfyre will do, though there have long been rumors that some goblin artifacts will destroy a vampire, either by obliterating the body or trapping the vampire's soul. Our species is just as susceptible to soul magic as yours is, but as that is classed by your kind as the Darkest of magic I would not advise you to use it."

Harry had to laugh at that, though he made sure to keep even that sound quiet so that his relatives wouldn't hear. He had gotten used to whispering, and Valeriana somehow was capable of keeping her voice down without appearing to even try. "Thanks for that," he chuckled, and to his surprise the vampiress smirked slightly.

"You are welcome, young Harry."

He stuck out his tongue slightly at the mention of his age, something that seemed to amuse her more than not. "I'll have you know that tomorrow's my Birthday," he said as haughtily as he could, trying to imitate her aloof air without resorting to the emotionless expression she cultivated.

"Oh?" The vampiress raised an eyebrow, a familiar gesture. "And how old will you be then, young one? A day older than you are today?"

Harry deflated and stuck his tongue out again. "I'll be sixteen, and only one year away from being an adult," he replied, his easy tone showing that he wasn't actually upset. "This is the last summer I'll spend locked up here," he said with a dark look at the locked door. "Then I'll be able to stay where I want – maybe even get to see the ocean." He didn't even realize that his tone was wistful, but Valeriana noticed.

"...Indeed," she said when the boy across from her fell silent. "Perhaps we shall meet again, and I will show you some of the sights." His dumbfounded and hopeful expression was more than she had expected, he could tell from the way her surprise showed briefly on her face.

"That would be awesome," he said earnestly, though he couldn't imagine her returning to spend more time with him – unless she wanted to continue their deal the following year. Somehow, instead of making him feel like he was being used, the thought made him happier than he could say.

OoOoO

The next day Harry awoke when something heavy landed on his stomach.

"Oof!" he sat upright, clutching at the packet Hedwig had just dropped on him. He gave his owl a somewhat dirty look before realizing what he was holding: A Birthday present! Immediately his eyes lit up and he said thank you quietly to his wonderful owl before ripping into the package.

"Oh, cool!" he exclaimed sotto voce, holding in his hands a present that the previous year he would have groaned over. Hermione had sent him a very thick book on Asian magical history; he had been telling her in his letters about his newfound interest in history and culture, without mentioning his new companion but telling her some of the most interesting things he'd learned about Muggle history and mentioning his interest in Asian cultures. Valeriana had apparently spent quite some time in Japan, and he had been fascinated by the descriptions of the different food, art, and culture. His letter exchange with Hermione this year was more interesting than ever before, the two discussing through writing different things they had heard or read about, or in Hermione's case sometimes even experienced.

Picking up the letter that had been inside the package, Harry read over Hermione's familiar handwriting and grinned at the lines saying that maybe now he'd finally read 'Hogwarts, a History' and that she'd be sure to point him to the history section in the Hogwarts library. With Harry's change of view on the topic it even sounded like a promise instead of a threat.

As he was lowering the letter a voice interrupted the quiet. "Catch," it said, and Harry reflexively dropped the letter and turned his torso to catch the package that the vampiress tossed from her perch in his bed.

Harry didn't bother asking what it was, only giving her a surprised and curious look – he definitely hadn't expected a present from her – before opening the present far more carefully than he had Hermione's. When the wrapping had been discarded he held in his hands a book with an elegantly patterned cover, a mirror embedded into the front cover and two ribbons marking pages. Leafing through it Harry found that it had lined pages but no writing – until he found a few words written on the very last page.

"A spell to copy selected text from a book to the pages, another to delete and replace words, and the third to highlight words and phrases," came the quiet explanation, and Harry looked up at his vampire companion with intrigued eyes.

"So I can add interesting information from a book to this one without having to copy it by hand? That's awesome! Wonder why Hermione doesn't have one of these?" He knew his friend could fill several books like this one when researching a topic, and though she always seemed to remember which book she had read what information in, it would save her a lot of time if she could just check one book for all the information she had found.

"The book is also protected so that none but you can open it," the vampiress continued without answering his question. "At least, it will be once you place a spark of your magic within it. If you do not know how to bring forth only a spark of magic, casting a simple spell while holding your wand tip to the mirror should be sufficient. The pages are not neverending, but I believe there to be sufficient pages of a large enough size for quite a bit of information to fit."

"And the mirror?" Harry asked curiously. "Is it just for decoration?" Looking back over at the woman he saw her raise her hand, a similar mirror held in it.

"I have the counterpart, and they are charmed such that writing on the surface of one will transfer the words to the other." Transferring her grip on the oval mirror, the vampiress held her finger to the surface and sketched out a few words that faded into view on Harry's mirror.

 **Happy Birthday, Harry** , it read, and Harry grinned widely, warmed tremendously by the fact that she would give him a way to keep in touch with her.

"You can also copy written text to the mirror as you would to the pages of the book, sending the text to my mirror. That way you can send me a full letter if you feel so inclined, and without sending Hedwig on the impossible quest of finding a vampire."

"Can't owls find you?" Harry asked in surprise, and Valeriana quirked an eyebrow.

"Owls find humans only," she replied simply, and Harry conceded the point.

"Well, thank you for the present," he said, lifting the book slightly. "It's really awesome." He smiled at the woman, and to his surprise she gave him a tiny smile in return. It was so small that nobody else would have recognized it as a smile, but Harry had spent so much with her expressionless face that the miniscule quirk of her lips was more than obvious to him.

Just then an owl barreled into the back of Harry's head, ending the moment and drawing an incredible quiet chuckle from the vampiress. Picking up Errol Harry greeted the old owl, wondering whether Valeriana was in Birthday cheer or just softening toward him – either way, he decided her mood was a good thing as she watched him open the presents from the Weasleys.

"You're sure you can't have any cake?" Harry checked as he helped himself to a bit of the Birthday cake Mrs. Weasley had sent, and Valeriana's expression was completely smooth as she deadpanned, "Perfectly." Harry just grinned apologetically at her before biting into his slice, humming appreciatively as he enjoyed his first breakfast since the summer had started.

"Do you ever miss food?" he asked, knowing it could be a touchy subject but having decided days previously that he'd never find out if he didn't ask; Valeriana rarely volunteered information.

"No," the vampire replied promptly, and at Harry's surprised blink elaborated, "I was not born with the proper status to enjoy good food. Rarely was I given anything but _mămăligă – a type of porridge made of yellow maize flour. I was not particularly fond of it, perhaps because it has no taste of its own. I remember enjoying other food – sarmale,_ zacuscă, mititei – but have long forgotten their taste." Harry couldn't tell how she felt about that, and her tone was perfectly level as she continued, "So no, I do not miss the food I knew, although there have been times in more recent decades that I wished for the ability to taste and digest human food. I can taste and spit it back out, but the taste is strange, whether because of vampire taste buds or an inclination for blood I do not know."

Harry hummed, both intrigued and saddened that she couldn't taste all the amazing things he had never considered anything but normal. Oh, he'd been in awe over Mrs. Weasley's cooking and the meals at Hogwarts, but he had accepted without question that taste buds were supposed to be able to taste such glorious flavors. To know that his companion had never and might never be able to taste the flavors he did was... oddly sad.

"Do you want to try a taste anyway?" he asked, holding up the slice of cake he was eating. "Have you ever had cake? Can you smell food normally?"

Valeriana quirked an eyebrow, but seemed amused. "What is 'normal' to a human is not the same as 'normal' to a vampire," she retorted, but slid out of the bed and walked over to him, her long legs almost fully exposed under Dudley's large hand-me-down shirt. Harry tried hard not to blush as he turned to cut her a slice of cake, but she waved him off as she sat down gracefully next to him.

"No need to cut another slice," she stated, reaching out to gently grip his hand and move it toward her mouth. "I shall simply have a bite of yours."

Harry noticed that she sniffed tentatively at the chocolate cake before taking a delicate bite, appearing to let it rest on her tongue for a moment before beginning to chew. Abruptly her jaw stopped moving and her eyes widened, locking on Harry's gaze with visible shock comparable to the look she'd worn when he'd spontaneously offered her his neck.

"Chocolate?" she breathed, and Harry frowned slightly in worry.

"Yeah, it's a chocolate cake," he replied somewhat concernedly. "Is something the matter?"

"...I have long wondered what chocolate tastes like," Valeriana replied, still seeming unable to believe something. Several things clicked for Harry and he exclaimed – quietly – "You can taste it?" He didn't know that his eyes were almost glowing with happiness.

"I... believe so," came the uncertain answer, and Harry couldn't help but punch the air in celebration, careful not to use the hand that Valeriana was still holding.

"That's awesome!" he exclaimed excitedly, grinning widely at her. "What does it taste like?"

For the first time he saw the woman lost for words, clearly trying to find a way to describe the way chocolate tasted when she had nothing to compare it to.

"Sweet," she offered eventually, her eyes on the cake in Harry's hand. "And... smooth. Earthy." She struggled for words again, eventually settling on, "Delicious."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" Harry enthused, taking in her stunned expression that was slowly morphing into awe and delight. He was sure he'd never see another vampire with such pure emotion on their face. "You're welcome to have that other slice now, if you want it," he grinned cheekily, and wasn't as surprised as he could have been when she laughed, the sound high and light and surprisingly soft.

"You have a beautiful laugh," Harry said sincerely, smiling at her before reaching for the second time to cut her a slice of cake.

"...Thank you," Valeriana replied, sounding almost like she wasn't sure how to receive a compliment. From her obvious beauty Harry had assumed that many people had complimented her before, but it sounded almost like she wasn't used to it. Maybe no one had ever complimented her laugh before, Harry thought, then realized that maybe no one living had heard her laugh before. Her emotionless front seemed far too practiced, her moments showing emotions far too rare for many to have seen them, especially with the way it had seemed in previous conversations that she had pulled away from humanity more and more in recent decades. When had she last had a true connection with someone?

Doing his best to keep those thoughts from his face, Harry turned and handed Valeriana a slice of chocolate cake with a grin. "Enjoy," he said cheerfully, grabbing some discarded wrapping paper and the waste bin next. "Since I suppose even if you can taste it you can't digest it," he explained, and Valeriana nodded her thanks, delicately spitting out her first bite and this time taking a proper, deep sniff of the scent of chocolate cake. With a smile Harry settled back and watched her eat cake, leaving his hand in her grip as she seemed to have forgotten she was still holding it.

He didn't know that she was struggling with the intense emotions actually being able to enjoy the taste of something other than blood evoked, and certainly didn't expect that she was wondering how she could possibly pay back the young human for giving her such an incredible gift. It would take careful thought, she knew, because he would surely dismiss it as something she could have just as easily found on her own, but the truth was that she had been intrigued by descriptions of the taste of chocolate for many, many years, but had never dared taste it for fear of ruining the concept of such a delicious sweet with the flawed taste buds of a vampire. Had it not been Harry's Birthday she would not have tried of the cake – somehow understanding that he truly wished to share it with her – and most likely would never have discovered that she could actually taste chocolate with all the smooth, delicious flavor that she had always read it described as having. And that, despite it being Harry's Birthday and not hers, was one of the greatest gift she had ever been given.

OoOoO

The days flew by, each day filled with new knowledge and a budding friendship. Valeriana continued to keep her emotions mostly hidden, but Harry felt that following his Birthday he was able to read her expressionless face better. Her emotions were well guarded, but after so much time with her deep blue eyes on him he'd begun reading emotions in them. He hoped. Maybe it was just his imagination.

She continued to drink from him each night, and he almost felt as though his body was getting used to the nightly drain on his blood and magic. He still had a few moments of disorientation and temporary weakness, but even though he had the impression that she drank more each time he felt good as new an hour later each time. Eventually he brought it up, and Valeriana confirmed his suspicions.

"It is true; I, too, believe your body to have adjusted to the feeding," she said, her eyes once more level on him as they sat close together on the bed. Then she hummed softly and bent to lick a drop of blood from his collarbone where it must have dripped when she was drinking. Harry couldn't help the small shiver of pleasure that went through him at the touch of her tongue, but thankfully she didn't comment on it. "I believe your magical core, too, has grown," the vampiress continued smoothly, drawing back and running her fingertips lightly over the spot she had just licked. "The steady drain on your magic appears to have beneficial results."

"Lucky me," Harry grinned at her, resolutely trying to ignore the soft touches to his collarbone. "I'm sure more wizards would make deals with vampires if they knew!"

"Unlikely," Valeriana replied promptly, her fingers ghosting up his neck and sending another frisson of ticklish pleasure through him. "You, young Harry, are unique."

Harry could tell he'd taken her by surprise when he chuckled somewhat hollowly. "Don't I just know it," he said, breaking away from her touch and standing to make his way over to the window. A moment later he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and a soft voice spoke from near his ear.

"It matters not what your relatives think of you," Valeriana said softly. "I am many times their age, and I can assure you that I have never met a human such as you, and I do not mean it negatively. It is not your magic, but your personality that is unlike any other."

Harry swallowed; he hadn't even been thinking of the Dursleys, but for some reason he was loath to reveal to her that he was Harry Potter and not just Harry, the boy with assholes for relatives and a willingness to help a vampire. "Thank you," he said instead, swallowing back the things he could say about prophecies, Dark Lords and death-defying adventures. Maybe someday he'd tell her.

Her hand simply squeezed his shoulder lightly, and they stood silently by the window for some time, both keeping their thoughts to themselves.

OoOoO

Harry had never thought that he would hug a vampire in his life, but that was exactly what he was doing. Professor Dumbledore had written close to the beginning of the holidays that he would come to take him to The Burrow unless Harry preferred he didn't, and Harry had written a reply thanking him but that as much as he loved the Weasleys, he'd like to have the summer to himself. It wasn't true, really – had he not met Valeriana he would have jumped at the chance to get away from Privet Drive, but as it was he had wanted to spend as much time with the vampiress as possible. Now, however, there were only two weeks left till the end of the summer holidays, and the Hogwarts owls would arrive the next day, so Dumbledore was picking him up from Privet Drive.

"I'll miss you," Harry confessed quietly, and Valeriana held him closer.

"And I you, little one," she returned earnestly. "Keep in touch, Harry."

Reluctantly releasing the hold, Harry nodded seriously. "Of course I will. Let me know if you're ever near Hogwarts, though – I can sneak out and meet you."

Valeriana let a tiny smile touch her lips as she reached out her hand to stroke his cheek. "I will." Then she turned and launched herself out the window in one smooth motion, Harry gasping and rushing to the window to make sure that she hadn't injured herself. To his shock, as he leaned out the window Valeriana made one huge bound and landed on the neighbors' roof, bounding off and soon disappearing from his view. Huffing out a breath Harry pushed himself away from the window and set about straightening up his room. The makeshift bed had done him good service, but Professor Dumbledore would be arriving in an hour and Harry needed to be ready by then. Not that there was much else to clean up, he realized as he looked around his room. There were candy wrappers littering the desk and the two books he'd gotten for his Birthday were next to the door so that he wouldn't forget to take them with him, but otherwise there was little to show that two people had spent two months in the small room. He might have ended up with things strewn around the floor normally, but having a beautiful female vampire in his room had ensured that he kept the room almost meticulously clean this summer.

Sighing, Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, then let himself fall sideways on it. He could smell the lingering scent of Valeriana on the sheets and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

"Best summer ever," he whispered with a soft smile, letting the happenings of the past few weeks run through his mind. He felt like he'd learned more this summer than in any full year at Hogwarts, and made an amazing friend at the same time. It felt a bit strange to think of the regal vampiress as a friend, but he felt that she thought him a friend despite the fact that he was a mortal teenager with centuries less experience than she. Though she had called him unique, and that seemed to balance out his youth, he thought with a crooked smile. Unique. It wasn't such a bad word, he decided. Certainly better than 'freak'.

OoOoO

The rest of the evening was... interesting, to put it mildly. Dumbledore talked circles around the Dursleys, informed him about Sirius's will, took him along to persuade Horace Slughorn to return to Hogwarts, and was about to take Harry to The Burrow when the teenager hesitantly made a request.

"Sir – would it be possible – not if it's an inconvenience, of course, but – could we go to Grimmauld Place?"

Dumbledore peered down his crooked nose at his young companion. "Whatever for, Harry?" he enquired, seeming as though he already knew the reply Harry would give.

Harry swallowed. "Well, sir, it's just that..."

"...you miss your godfather and wish to revisit the last place he resided in?" Dumbledore finished his sentence kindly, and Harry simply nodded, blinking back honest tears that he hadn't expected.

"It is unprotected at the moment," Dumbledore said, "but... Yes, I don't see why not. If you will grasp my arm."

Harry braced himself for the sensation of apparition, but still found the sensation unpleasant. When the pressure disappeared and he found himself able to breathe again, he was standing in a dimly illuminated street facing a familiar house. He swallowed against the sudden choked feeling he had and released Dumbledore's arm, following him up the steps and into the townhouse.

Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand so that it glowed like a torch and a moment of silence fell as Harry closed the front door softly behind him.

"I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it, Harry," Dumbledore began softly, "but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you seem to be coping after everything that happened at the Ministry. Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you."

Harry swallowed; his voice seemed to have deserted him. He didn't think he could stand to discuss Sirius. Not even to Valeriana, who hadn't known the man, had he been able to mention his late godfather, and hearing Slughorn casually throwing out Sirius's name had been bad enough.

"It was cruel," continued Dumbledore softly, "that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship."

Harry nodded, his eyes fixed resolutely on the dust lying on the bannister. He felt that Dumbledore understood, possibly even suspected that Harry had spent nearly all his time at the Dursleys' lying on his bed and staring at the misted window as he would have had Valeriana not been around to keep his mind occupied.

"It's just hard," Harry said finally, in a low voice, "to realize he won't write to me again."

His eyes burned suddenly and he blinked. He felt stupid for admitting it, but the fact that he had had someone outside Hogwarts who cared what happened to him, almost like a parent, had been one of the best things about discovering his godfather. And now the post owls would never bring that comfort again...

"Sirius represented much to you that you had never known before," Dumbledore said gently. "Naturally, the loss is devastating..."

"But while I was at the Dursleys'," interrupted Harry, his voice growing stronger, "I realized I can't shut myself away or – or crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway, life's too short..." he trailed off there, an odd thought occurring to him. Hadn't he just that summer met a person for whom life wasn't short at all? He wondered – what if the 'power the Dark Lord knows not'...

"Well said, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted his train of thought with an approving smile. "And, on a closely related subject... I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody the full contents of the prophecy?"

"No," Harry shook his head.

"A wise decision, on the whole," Dumbledore commended. "Although I think you ought to relax it in favor of your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes," he continued when Harry looked startled, "I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them."

"I didn't want-"

"-to worry or frighten them?" said Dumbledore, surveying Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away."

Harry reluctantly nodded, suddenly wishing he had told Valeriana everything after all. It had been wonderful to be treated as just Harry, but she would almost certainly have had valuable advice.

"On a different, but related, subject," Dumbledore continued obliviously, "it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."

"Private – with you?" Harry exclaimed, surprised out of his preoccupied silence.

"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."

Unfortunately, Harry's question of what the Headmaster would be teaching him was met with an airy reply, but at least Harry found that he wouldn't have to take Occlumency lessons with Snape again. When Professor Dumbledore suggested they move on to The Burrow Harry hesitantly asked if he could just take a quick walk around the house, and after a pause Dumbledore agreed to it, cautioning him that they couldn't be sure that Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't been around and not to touch anything. Harry agreed gravely and moved off, slowly walking up the stairs he had gone up before in happier times.

Wandering around the rooms, Harry carefully searched for the true reason he had asked to come here – rather than in memory of Sirius, since he would have preferred never to set foot in this house again, he wanted to get an artifact he had run afoul of the previous year.

Finally he spotted it in the drawing room, and, looking around covertly to make sure that Dumbledore wasn't in sight, he pretended to trip and reach out his hand to steady himself, coincidentally ending up putting his hand directly on the inconspicuous velvet bag.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed quietly when the bag bit him in the hand, sucking out some of his blood before Harry managed to get it off him. That had hurt more than he'd remembered.

"Is everything quite alright, Harry?" Dumbledore's deep voice called from the entrance, and Harry shook himself, carefully picking up the bag.

"A bag bit me when I stumbled," he replied, hoping he sounded sufficiently put out. "It didn't poison me, did it?" he asked, walking into the hallway and giving Dumbledore a worried look. There hadn't seemed to be any lingering effects the previous year, but it had been an honest concern of his then.

The professor drew his wand and flicked it over Harry's injured palm. "It does not appear so," he said, and Harry smiled in relief.

"Oh, good." Peering at the bag, he said, "I think it has some of my blood, actually. Is it doing anything with it? Tainting it or something?" It looked like a simple velvet bag, but you couldn't put anything past the Blacks.

Another flick of the long wand. "It appears to simply be retaining it," the wizard replied, sliding his wand back into his sleeve. "I would advise you to dispose of it, as the bag most likely has the task of preserving the unique properties of magical blood for use in a Dark ritual." Harry pretended to look disturbed at that, hiding his inner satisfaction, and thanked Dumbledore politely, walking away muttering something about throwing it out after getting the blood out of it.

Instead he pulled it closed and tucked it into the pocket of his trousers as soon as he was out of sight, making his way down to the basement to grab a bunch of small potions vials from the lab before heading up into the library. The vials were all carefully padded and hidden in his pockets – for once Harry was glad for his humongous hand-me-downs – and Harry grabbed three books from the library while he had the chance: One on wizarding history, one large tome on Pureblood lineages and customs, and a third on blood rituals.

He then returned to the entrance and told Dumbledore politely that he was ready to go to the Burrow; at the professor's slightly inquisitive look he explained why he had grabbed the books.

"I found out some things about Muggle history this summer and decided to learn about more history on my own; Binns – sorry, Professor Binns," he corrected himself at Dumbledore's pointed look, "is useless and I realized that I don't actually know anything about wizarding history, or really history in general. And the book on blood rituals – well, I've already been involved in one and was just bitten by a bag that you think was meant for that kind of ritual, so I thought maybe I should read up on those so that I can avoid them better in the future." He gave the Headmaster a crooked smile at the thought of actually being able to avoid a dangerous situation, and the man chuckled slightly.

"I see," said Dumbledore. "Wise choices, then, and I am sure that Miss Granger will be more than happy to show you around the library at Hogwarts."

"She's already promised to," Harry laughed, tucking the books under his arm. "I think she was happy when I told her I was interested in studying harder this year," he grinned wryly. The death of Sirius – clearly a result of his own ignorance – and the summer spent with Valeriana had awoken in him a desire to learn more, especially of history. Valeriana had actually told him a quote that had driven home the pointlessness of having Binns as a teacher: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

Harry didn't even realize he had spoken the words aloud until Dumbledore nodded pensively. "Indeed. Wise words. Santayana, I believe?"

"Er – I'm not sure, sir. I'm not very good at remembering names," Harry replied, flustered.

Dumbledore merely hummed, then indicated the door. "Shall we, Harry?"

They spun off into the night, headed for Harry's last destination of the evening: The Burrow.

OoOoO

It was great being with the Weasleys again, and the support Ron and Hermione gave him when he told them about the prophecy convinced him that Dumbledore had been right in advising him to tell them. Harry kept Valeriana a secret from them, though, and used the objects he had taken from Grimmauld Place to send her filled vials of blood; he couldn't use magic to put the vials under a stasis charm, but he knew that Valeriana was capable of casting a similar spell to preserve the blood for as long as she needed to. To get it to her he sent Hedwig to Privet Drive and wrote the vampire a note using the mirror; she met up with Hedwig without any issues but questioned him thoroughly about how he extracted the blood, as well as chiding him that before sending such things he needed to ensure that only the proper recipient could get the parcel, and didn't he know about all the rituals that could be undergone to harm him with only a small sample of his blood, let alone the quantity he had just sent her? He wrote back defending himself by saying that he couldn't cast magic outside of school and that he was reading up on blood magic, which seemed to placate her not at all. She did say that she was grateful for the gift, though.

Malfoy was up to no good, as always, and Harry was frustrated at how nobody seemed to believe him when he warned them about the blond ponce. Not his friends, nor Mr. Weasley – and hadn't Harry been the one to save his life? Apparently having a vision of a snake biting someone wasn't the same as seeing Malfoy threatening a shopkeeper with Fenrir Greyback and a mark on his left forearm.

Almost before he knew it, however, he was back at Hogwarts, filing into the Great Hall with all the other students. Looking up at the staff table, he was hard-pressed not to gape.

"Whoa, who's that?" Ron asked, awe in his voice. "She's hot!" Hermione elbowed him violently in the side and the boy moved so that Harry was between the two of them.

"Dunno," Harry said, trying to hide his shock and pleasure at seeing the very person he'd spent his summer with sitting among the professors. Then her eyes met his and he couldn't help but flash her a delighted grin he almost couldn't hide again when she gave him a tiny smile in return.

"But if Professor Slughorn is the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, then what is she going to teach?" Hermione muttered, sounding frustrated at the puzzle two new professors presented.

"Maybe she's a new Divination teacher," Ron grinned, but Harry shook his head.

"Nah, see – Trelawney's there, next to Hagrid." He grinned at the half-giant when he waved at him enthusiastically.

"Bugger all," Ron replied sullenly.

"Ron," Hermione hissed reprovingly, sliding onto the bench at Gryffindor Table.

Then Professor McGonagall led the new first years into the hall and everyone fell silent, waiting through the Hat's song and the Sorting before raising their voices during the Feast. Once everyone had just about finished with the desserts Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

"What happened to his hand?" gasped Hermione. She wasn't the only one who had noticed, either. Dumbledore's right hand was as blackened and dead-looking as it had been on the night he had come to fetch Harry from the Dursleys'. Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. Carrying on with his customary start-of-year announcements, he finally addressed the topic everyone had speculated about when entering the Great Hall: Who the new professors were.

"We are pleased to welcome two new members of staff this year. Professor Slughorn," Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow, "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

 _"Potions?"_

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"Potions?" said Ron and Hermione together, turning to stare at Harry. "But you said-"

"Meanwhile, Professor Snape," Dumbledore raised his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" said Harry, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He didn't care; he was staring up at the staff table, incensed. How could Snape be given the Defense Against the Dark Arts job? He felt Valeriana's deep blue eyes regarding him, silently compelling him to say no more, and he held his tongue despite wanting to say that at least he'd be gone by the end of the year due to the curse on the post. Personally, he was hoping Snape would end the year the same way Quirrell had – dead.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore continued levelly, "I also have the pleasure of announcing that we have another new member of staff. Professor Natassa is our new History of Magic professor, replacing Professor Binns. As you have no doubt noticed, Professor Natassa is a vampire, and several centuries older than even I; her experience will no doubt lead to fascinating insights in her classes." Neither he nor Valeriana seemed at all perturbed by the uncertain looks she was now receiving, and the vampiress stood and inclined her head, her black hair swinging softly at the movement.

"I assure you that none of you are in danger," she spoke, her voice smooth and beautiful now that Harry heard it at normal volume; they had talked only in low voices during the summer. "I have with me a sufficient amount of nourishment to last me the year," her eyes alit briefly on Harry and he stifled a laugh, "and I am sure that Professor Snape will be happy to inform you on my kind in your next Defense class." Said professor's look was sour, but Valeriana didn't seem to notice. "I look forward to seeing you all in my classes."

She retook her seat, effortlessly draping her robes around her. To Harry's private amusement she looked a lot more like a vampire in the dark red robes, and though she hadn't chosen anything tight or revealing it was a very flattering outfit. Harry had gotten so used to seeing her in large, baggy clothing – either the sweater she had been wearing when they first met or an assortment of Dudley's old clothing – that seeing her in tailored robes was quite different.

"Thank you for those words of reassurance, Professor Natassa," Dumbledore smiled. "My new colleague insisted that all students, regardless of year group or previous grades, be required to take History of Magic. In fact, she persuaded me by quoting a very wise Muggle. 'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.' I am sure that you will all learn much from her lessons." He then continued more seriously. "Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength." The silence seemed to tauten and strain as the Headmaster cautioned them and bid them to report anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle to a member of staff immediately; Harry snorted softly, remembering how he'd done that in his first year and been brushed aside by his Head of House. Warnings given, Dumbledore smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say goodnight. Pip pip!"

Hermione hurried to fulfill her prefect's duty of shepherding the first-years, and with a last quick glance at Valeriana Harry followed the others to Gryffindor Tower. In an unsubtle hint, the password was 'Unity'.

OoOoO

Their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class the following day was as miserable as Harry had expected, though he was shocked to find that his magic really had grown stronger: When Snape tried to jinx him Harry immediately retaliated with a yelled Protego, the force of which nearly threw Snape clear across the room. He had detention for it, of course, never mind that Snape had been the one attacking him. It was with some vindication that Harry got Dumbledore's note scheduling their first private lesson, to take place at the time Snape had set his detention for. Of course, Snape was likely to simply change the day of his detention, but it was still satisfying that Dumbledore had unintentionally foiled the git.

Potions was... interesting, with Harry winning a small vial of Felix Felicis by following the scribbled instructions in the used textbook he'd been given. Hermione was not pleased with him, and he felt a bit guilty for accepting Slughorn's praise without explaining the true reason for his perfect potion, but he wasn't above using the advantage that had been handed him.

The biggest surprise, however, was their first History of Magic lesson. It turned out to be entirely unlike anyone had expected. Valeriana had apparently decided that all students would have their lessons together, and so they would take place in the Great Hall.

"Good morning," the vampiress said, her voice carrying easily through the room. "My name is Valeriana Natassa, and rather than a regular class this subject will be conducted as a lecture. As in your other classes, questions will be signaled by a raised hand, notes will be taken and essays assigned. You will have two classes a week and one essay a month, giving me an entire month to correct the hundreds of essays I will be forced to wade through." Her dry tone made Harry chuckle, though everyone else seemed too unnerved by the vampiress to laugh. "The essays will have specific length requirements that you will not exceed; as long as the information is well-presented and condensed a shorter essay is permitted. I in turn will attempt to learn your names, and ask that you state your name whenever you are called upon."

Harry saw her blue eyes sweep over the hall, lingering briefly on him and someone further at the back of the hall; turning around, he saw the teachers standing by the back wall, apparently just as curious as the students about this new teacher and her subject.

"I will not do a roll call, but I warn you not to miss my lessons. There is much you can learn from them, and skipping class will be punished, so I expect to see you all here each lesson without fail." She paused. "Rather than commencing at the beginning of recorded history, we will start with recent history. It is important to know what has happened to shape the culture and society you live in, to know the background of important figures you find yourself surrounded by," she gestured around the hall with a hand, "and understand what motivates the factions currently dividing the world."

Harry was intrigued, now. Over the summer Valeriana had mostly taught him about events that had happened during her long life, but they had never spoken of recent events. He wondered whether she had found out his surname yet.

"Let us begin at the most recent life-changing event in British wizarding society. On October 31st, 1991, the event now known as the 'Fall of Lord Voldemort' took place." Gasps and horrified sounds filled the room, giving the vampiress pause. "Perhaps we shall begin instead with a name. 'Vol de mort'," she sounded out with a strange accent, "is French and translates roughly to 'flight from death', implying someone fleeing from death. Were it 'vol de LA mort', it would be closer to 'flight OF death', implying that it is death flying. Clear so far?" Harry nodded, though he couldn't hide his surprise. He hadn't known Voldemort's assumed name was French.

"Excellent. So, the name 'Voldemort'," there was a lesser reaction this time, "implies that the bearer of the name is afraid of death. This happens to be true, as 'Voldemort' is an assumed name." Harry smirked as a minor commotion happened across the hall, specifically at Slytherin table.

"Let me explain." At the vampire's calm tone silence fell, though Harry saw that a lot of people were incensed at her statement.

"There once was a young wizard who was magically more powerful than the other children he was surrounded by." Harry was hard-pressed not to snort when the Slytherins looked placated by the fairy tale words. "Eventually, this child decided that he was better than all others, and resolved to attain a position of power over others. However, he was also terrified of death – his own, not that of others. And so he pursued immortality." The entire hall was silent, listening in intense curiosity as she told a tale that Harry already knew parts of, but not all. "However," the vampiress said, baring her teeth in a way that her fangs glinted in the light, "he did not aspire to be a monster." The way she casually called herself a monster made Harry's heart hurt, knowing that he sometimes thought of himself as a freak the same way and remembering the way she had called him 'unique'.

"No, this boy wanted to be an immortal human. And so he dabbled in the Darkest arts, the most stringently banned in your society: Soul magic." Gasps sounded around the hall. "In a bid to retain his humanity, he split his soul, rendering him less than a monster." She bared her teeth again. "At least I still have my soul."

The students seemed to be in shock; nobody made a sound. And Harry suddenly realized what Tom Riddle's diary had been.

"After that, he decided that he needed a grander name. One more befitting of a supreme ruler. Have any of you heard the phrase 'Fake it till you make it'? That is precisely what this boy did. He began going by the name of Lord Voldemort," nobody reacted to the name this time, "and named his followers 'Death Eaters'. For they were the ones that would defend him from death and establish his place in the world."

She paused, letting her gaze wander over the students once more.

"What was this boy's true name, you wonder. What name was it that he hid from the world?"

Turning, she picked up something from the ground and held it so they could see. "This trophy belongs in the Hall of Trophies here at Hogwarts. It is a trophy for Special Services to the School. In fact, this trophy was awarded a student when he framed Rubeus Hagrid for a crime he himself committed, leading to the expulsion of the boy you all know as Professor Hagrid." As one everyone turned to gape at Hagrid, who looked just as shocked.

"Tha's why I was expelled?" he asked dumbly. Then he paled even further. "Then You-Know-Who is…"

"Yes," Valeriana agreed calmly, her gaze level. "Lord Voldemort was a boy you went to school with: Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Harry didn't know who was more shocked: Hagrid, the students, or the other professors. He had known, of course, but why hadn't Dumbledore ever told Hagrid the truth about his expulsion? Shouldn't he get his wand back or something since he hadn't actually killed Myrtle?

"But Riddle was a half-blood orphan!" Hagrid finally managed to say. "He can't be You-Know-Who!" The hall stirred at this, but Valeriana merely arched an eyebrow.

"As I said: 'Fake it till you make it'. Riddle hid his past until everyone, including his followers, believed that he was a Pureblood. In truth, Tom Riddle grew up in a Muggle orphanage and realized when he came to Hogwarts that in the wizarding world, all the power lay with the Purebloods. And so he simply posed as one, declaring people with less 'pure' blood as lower beings. Hypocritical, no?" she asked conversationally, and Harry couldn't stop the snort that escaped him. Hermione shot him a reproachful look that he ignored.

"I have often wondered how many of his Death Eaters would continue to follow him if they knew he was the very type of wizard they abhor, as well as most likely being insane. There are side-effects to splitting one's soul, after all, and being without a body for so many years cannot have left the man's mind very stable."

Harry looked over to Malfoy and felt a rush of vindication when he took in the horrified expression the other boy wore as he clutched at his left forearm. Valeriana seemed to have followed his gaze, for then she continued, "The man was, however, both extremely powerful and intelligent before he began splitting his soul; the Dark Mark, for example, was almost entirely a creation of his own. Cast while speaking Parseltongue, it appears that there is no means of removing it, though as it faded after his first downfall it is likely that it will fade entirely after his death. And die he will, for I have here several items…"

She walked the few steps to the staff table, setting down the trophy and picking up a large cloth bag. "Does anyone care to guess what I have in here?"

Silence. Harry felt as though his heart had stopped, his eyes glued on the bag Valeriana held.

"His soul," he eventually said, his voice surprisingly steady as he raised his eyes to meet hers.

She merely nodded in reply. "Your name?" she asked, and Harry remembered her specification that they state their name before speaking.

"Harry Potter." He didn't know if anyone else saw it, but for a split-second her face betrayed shock before her usual impassive expression smoothed it away. Silently she pulled three items out of the bag, lining them up on the pulpit she stood behind: A golden chalice, a silver locket, and a delicate diadem.

"These are Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, and Ravenclaw's diadem," she announced evenly, dropping the bag and reaching into her robes. "And this," she held a small vial to the light, "is vampire blood. Mine, to be exact." The red liquid glinted dully in the light of the enchanted ceiling. "Each of these priceless, historic artifacts has a piece of Tom Riddle's soul in them. There are only few ways to destroy a soul. Does anyone know them?"

She paused to give them time to answer, but finally it was Harry who raised his hand to answer.

"Harry Potter again, ma'am," he said somewhat cheekily when she nodded at him. "One can destroy a soul with the Dementor's Kiss, if the soul is in a body, or by using Basilisk venom, certain goblin-made artifacts, Fiendfyre, or, I suppose, vampire blood."

"Correct, Mr. Potter," Valeriana said, and hearing her call him by his surname was exceedingly strange. "Five points to Gryffindor." That took him by surprise – he, along with everyone else, had forgotten that this was a lesson.

"Now then. Using most of the options listed by Mr. Potter would lead to the complete destruction of the object holding the soul shard, but using vampire blood will not. Observe." With a smooth motion she removed the stopper from the vial and poured a small amount of blood into the chalice. Stoppering the vial again, she took a step back – and waited.

To Harry's surprise, after a few seconds he could see the blood rising over the edges of the cup, spilling over until it coated the entire chalice – then, abruptly, the blood sank into the cup, and a high-pitched scream emerged from it as it shook and writhed, finally expelling a cloud of black smoke that dissipated slowly.

"And that, my students, was a soul shard as it died." Just as swiftly she poured blood over the other two artifacts, and looked up to meet Harry's eye. "Mr. Potter, if you would please join me." Harry blinked but immediately stood and clambered out from the bench, walking easily up to the professor. He didn't know what this was about, and had a bad feeling he couldn't explain, but he trusted her.

Just as he passed the pulpit two high-pitched screams identical to the previous one came from the locket and diadem, and Harry flinched away slightly, hurrying past it. Meeting Valeriana's deep blue eyes, he smiled crookedly, but she didn't smile back.

"I apologize for this, Mr. Potter," she said quietly, but her voice still carried across the hall. "The day that is now known as the Fall of Lord Voldemort, nobody knows precisely what happened, but one thing I am afraid all vampires are sure of: An additional soul shard was created that night."

Harry frowned in thought as he considered that statement – then felt as though he had been doused with frigid water. "My scar," he whispered, many things suddenly clear to him. His connection to Voldemort, the reason his head hurt when the Dark wizard was near, why he had seen the attack on Mr. Weasley.

"His snake is one, too, isn't she," he asked numbly. "Nagini."

Valeriana nodded. "You need not worry about her," she assured him. "A fellow vampire owed me a favor, and as of this morning the snake no longer exists."

Harry frowned again, even through his shock. "I would have felt Voldemort's anger if she was dead," he said with utter certainty, but Valeriana just shook her head.

"Not if he does not yet know that she is dead," she reasoned.

Harry took a deep breath. "I have to die, then?" He didn't want to.

But Valeriana's eyes widened in shock. "No!" she exclaimed, to his surprise. "No," she repeated more calmly, though he could tell he'd unnerved her, "of course not." Holding up the vial that still had a bit of blood in it, she said, "You only have to drink this."

Harry's eyes widened. Vampire blood. A small smile tugging at his lips, he raised his eyes back to hers. "Well, thank goodness for that!" He wondered if anyone else in the hall knew the side-effects of drinking vampire blood.

"Quite," Valeriana said with a tiny smile that he thought held a bit of relief in it. "Here; drink up." She handed him the vial, uncorked and ready. "It may hurt somewhat, and you may lose consciousness after the shard has been destroyed, but I do not believe it will harm you. Should you die, you are welcome to haunt me."

Harry laughed at that, the tension leaving him. "Will do, Professor," he grinned, before swallowing the contents of the vial. Lowering it, he raised his eyebrows. "That tasted surprisingly alright," he said – then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, convulsing, to the floor.

Valeriana caught him easily, moving faster than the other people in the hall had ever seen someone move, and held him still so that he couldn't injure himself with his thrashing. The only sounds filling the silence were the agonized noises the teenager was making.

Then Harry's eyes bulged, his mouth open in a silent scream as black smoke billowed out from the scar on his forehead, his body curving into a strained arch despite Valeriana's hold on him as an unearthly scream rent the air. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, all the tension left his body and Harry collapsed limply in the vampire's arms.

OoOoO

Harry woke up slowly to the sound of voices. From the scent he realized he was in the Infirmary – typical, that he wouldn't even make it three days into school before ending up here. Then he realized that he could hear the nearby conversation quite clearly despite that the people seemed to be talking lowly.

"-wondering however how you located Voldemort's Horcruxes?"

"Headmaster, my kind is more attuned to the Dark arts than yours. It was not difficult to locate such potent artifacts." Dumbledore seemed to accept that at face value, but Harry thought it was rather too smooth an answer to be quite true. Maybe Valeriana would tell him the truth later.

"And you are positive that they have all been destroyed?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore gave what sounded like a relieved sigh to Harry. "I admit, that simplifies matters. I had suspected for some time that Harry's scar was no normal curse scar, but to have it dealt with so easily causes me great joy. For that, I believe both Harry and I are in your debt."

"Perhaps," Valeriana said noncommittally, and Harry stifled a smile. Somehow he had the feeling that she had paid him back for the blood he had given her by giving him some of hers, and that she was considering how she might call in a debt when it was owed by Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, I believe Mr. Potter has awoken," Valeriana said then, turning to approach his bed. Harry finally opened his eyes and saw that his bed was surrounded by privacy screens.

"His heart rate sped up," the vampiress explained, most likely in response to a curious look by Dumbledore.

"Ah, of course," the wizard replied, reaching and pulling aside the curtain. "Good day, Harry," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I trust you are feeling well?" His voice sounded abnormally loud to Harry.

"Er-" Harry paused, shifting slightly in the bed to figure out how he felt. "A bit sore, but my head doesn't even hurt. What happened, sir?" He addressed Dumbledore, but gave Valeriana a grateful smile that she didn't respond to. He thought her gaze softened, though.

"What do you remember, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, transfiguring the bedside chair and magically pulling up another one, inviting his companion to sit.

"I remember swallowing a mouthful of Va- Professor Natassa's blood," Harry began, thankful that the beginning of Valeriana's name sounded like the beginning of the word 'vampire', "and saying that it tasted alright before… well, pain. A lot of it, especially in my head." He raised a hand to touch his scar, blinking when he couldn't feel it.

"It healed," Valeriana supplied. "The soul shard ripped the skin when it left your body, but Mediwitch Pomfrey was then able to heal the wound without leaving a scar."

Harry let his hand fall back to the bed, unsure how to feel about the absence of the scar he could always remember having. Then he decided he was glad it was gone – it had only been a reminder of that Halloween, and a sign that a piece of Voldemort's soul had been inside him. Harry shivered. No, he was glad he didn't have that.

"Thank you," he said earnestly, catching Valeriana's gaze and trying to convey with his eyes how much this meant to him. "I would have died rather than have a piece of him inside me."

"Then I am glad that I was able to provide a less fatal option," Valeriana replied smoothly, but Harry thought he saw a spark of pain in her eyes at the thought of him dying.

"So am I," Harry smiled at her.

OoOoO

Harry was released from the Infirmary soon after, accompanying Valeriana to her office. She had explained to Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore that there may be a few temporary side-effects to drinking of her blood, though when they had asked what effects she had simply said that it should be nothing serious and that she anticipated that he would be back to normal by the end of the week by the latest. They had clearly wanted to pry, but Valeriana had just given them a level look telling them to stay out of vampire business before leading Harry away.

The door to Valeriana's office closed behind them and Harry stepped into Valeriana's arms with a pained sigh. "Everything sounds so loud," he whispered, trying to spare his aching head. He hadn't had a headache waking up, but even the short conversation in the Infirmary had given him a headache.

"I know, Harry," the vampiress replied just as softly, her arms coming up to hold him. "You will get used to it soon, I hope."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes and simply enjoying the hug. Somehow hugging Valeriana felt so natural, even though hugs with anyone else felt awkward, even when it was Mrs. Weasley giving him one of her warm ones. When she or Hagrid hugged him it felt stifling in their exuberance, while Hermione was almost violent the few times she hugged him. But Valeriana… she just held him. There was nothing rushed about the hug, nothing awkward.

"Can we just stay like this for the rest of the day?" Harry murmured, currently beyond hormones telling him that he had a shapely woman's body pressed up against his. She simply held him closer, silently offering him her support.

OoOoO

"Mate, where were you!" Ron exclaimed when Harry made it back to Gryffindor Tower that evening, and Harry winced. The common room was always loud, but Ron's call sounded to him as though his friend had just yelled the words directly into his ears.

"Can we go to our room?" Harry whispered once he was closer to his friends. "It's so loud here…"

"Do you have a headache?" Hermione asked worriedly, keeping her voice down. Even so her voice was loud and Harry closed his eyes at the renewed stab of pain, wincing slightly when someone else said something before realizing that it had been someone on the other side of the room murmuring to his friend and that everyone else had fallen silent. Looking around, Harry realized that everyone was staring at him.

Harry sighed. He really didn't feel up to dealing with anyone right now. "Professor Natassa said there would be a few temporary side-effects to drinking her blood, so right now I have a splitting headache. Mostly because everything sounds a lot louder than normal. Please don't call her a blood-sucking monster," he said wearily to the student whose murmur he had overheard. "She saved my life." Deciding that was more than enough, Harry headed for his room, massaging his temples as he went. Nobody said a word until he was at his door, but even so he had to wince at the sudden rise in volume.

With a low moan Harry sank onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. Couldn't he have just stayed with Valeriana? It was _quiet_ there.

He had to give his friends credit for coming in as quietly as they could, but even so every noise they made sounded several times louder than normal.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, and to Harry's relief she managed to keep her voice just over a breath. Rolling over so that he could see her worried face, he gave her a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

"Hey," he whispered back. "Nothing much to tell, really – Madam Pomfrey healed my head," Harry raised a hand to move his bangs aside, revealing unblemished skin, "and then Professor Natassa took me to her office for a few hours so that I could have some silence. She explained that there would be some temporary side-effects to having drunk vampire blood, mostly that my hearing would be a lot better than normal and that my movements might be a bit off for a while." Valeriana had asked him not to reveal even to his most trusted friends what drinking vampire blood did, and he had sworn to protect the secret though he had said he wasn't sure they wouldn't notice that it wasn't just temporary. In response Valeriana had said that once he got used to his new abilities they would become normal, so as long as he didn't do anything to show off his new strength and agility it would be fine. Apparently he'd probably end up falling a lot as a result of moving faster than he had expected to, so it would take time both to get used to his improved body and to learn how to act like a normal human.

"There is a good thing, though," Harry managed a better smile this time, taking off his glasses. "It seems that somehow my bad eyesight was a result of the soul shard, so Madam Pomfrey expects my eyesight to slowly improve!" It wasn't true at all, of course, but Harry was definitely looking forward to being able to see properly.

"That's great, Harry!" Hermione enthused quietly, managing to look both happy and worried. "How long does Professor Natassa think you'll have these side-effects? She's sure you'll be back to normal, right?"

"Yeah," Harry replied softly, "She said to Professor Dumbledore that she thinks it'll take at most a week until I'm back to normal, though she told me that I'm the youngest recorded wizard to have drunk vampire blood and so she's not sure exactly how long it'll take. She did seem sure that it won't be an issue, though."

Ron sighed deeply, sitting down on his own bed. "That's good, mate. I can't believe you had a piece of You-Know-Who in you…"

Harry grimaced in distaste. "Yeah… Apparently Dumbledore suspected, but didn't know how to destroy it without killing me, so even if I had to live with these side-effects for the rest of my life I'd still be grateful to Professor Natassa… I mean, at least I'll have a life to live, right? Once Voldemort's dead, that is – and I believe her when she says he's mortal now, so I think we have a better chance now." He looked at his friends with conviction, finding his expression reflected back.

"Figure she can deal with him, too?" Ron asked only half-jokingly, and Harry grinned lopsidedly.

"Nah – prophecy, remember? But maybe she'll hold him down so I can kill him…" The two boys grinned and Hermione shook her head, though she couldn't hide the smile she wore. Things were definitely looking up.

OoOoO

The next morning Harry's head was feeling considerably better; he had cast a silencing charm on his curtains so that he could sleep peacefully, and Valeriana caught him before breakfast to wordlessly hand him a pair of earplugs that he gratefully accepted. With them in his ears he heard everything as he normally would, and though he knew he couldn't wear earplugs for the rest of his life he currently wished he could.

Unfortunately, disaster struck during their class with Snape. They were practicing silent spells again and Snape did what he usually did, putting Harry down for his technique, ability, and heritage, getting steadily more vitriolic as Harry tried to hold in his anger.

Suddenly Snape seemed to notice the earplugs in Harry's ears and a furious expression dawned on his face. A swish of his wand and the plugs shot out of Harry's ears before the irate professor yelled, "Potter!" right in Harry's face.

"Professor, don't!" Hermione exclaimed, but she was too late; Harry had already stumbled back, a hand over his ear as he lost his balance. Shutting his eyes against the pain, Harry didn't even realize his ears were bleeding until several people gasped, making him groan in pain. The room seemed to be swaying and he opened his eyes, prompting a scream from Parkinson at his bloodshot eyes and another stab of pain to his brain at her scream. Lurching to his desk and nearly falling over in the process, Harry smeared blood on his bag in an attempt to get out a certain book.

"What do you need, Harry?" Hermione breathed worriedly, suddenly appearing at his side.

"Mirror book," he slurred, finding it almost immediately placed on the desk before him. Placing an unsteady finger to the mirror he wrote four sloppy letters, praying that Valeriana would see it and come. **Help** , it said in a smear of blood. Then he lost his balance completely and sank to the floor, breathing heavily as he tried not to pass out from the pain. Thankfully, Hermione had the presence of mind to tell everyone to shut up.

Not even a minute later the door was ripped open, a worried vampire rushing into the room – not that anyone but Harry could tell so from her expression. Just as abruptly she stopped in the doorway, a glazed look coming over her eyes as the scent of fresh blood hit her.

"Professor," Harry whispered, and that seemed to snap Valeriana back out of it. With two steps she was beside him, crouching and lifting him carefully into her arms.

"What happened, young one?" she breathed, and he tried to focus on her face.

"Snape yelled in my ear," he slurred. "Took out earplugs."

Valeriana became very still. Then she raised her head to pin Snape with her eyes. "I will be back," she whispered, more threat than promise, before running out with a speed no human could match.

OoOoO

Harry awoke in the Infirmary for the second time in as many days with a head that felt like it was about to explode. Or implode. Both.

He groaned and found himself immediately gathered into familiar arms, a vial pressed to his lips as a soft voice bade him drink the contents. He obeyed and found that his headache cleared up considerably, but his head still pounded.

"Harry, listen to me," Valeriana whispered, slipping into the bed behind him to let him lean against her. "You have too much blood in you – your body continued producing blood at the same rate after the summer as during it, and it's exacerbating your headache. I'm going to drain some of it from you, alright?"

"Alright," Harry agreed weakly, letting his head loll to the left so that she could access his neck from where she sat behind him. A heartbeat later he felt her breath on his neck, then the familiar bite he had gotten so used to over the summer. As the usual sensation of numbness took over he realized that he had missed this. Not the numbness, nor the faint pain of the bite, but the nearness, the sense of sharing. He doubted anyone else would understand.

"Natassa!" came a shocked voice, and Valeriana sucked once more before pulling away, giving Harry's neck a little lick.

"Headmaster," Valeriana said calmly, looking up at the shocked man. "Please, have a seat. I was just draining some of Mr. Potter's excess blood; it appears that drinking of my blood led to a higher level of blood production in his body, which was exacerbating his headache." Looking down at the boy leaning against her, she asked softly, "Is your head feeling better, Mr. Potter?"

"A bit," Harry replied, leaving his head where it was pillowed on her arm. "Could you drink a bit more?"

"You do not feel at all lightheaded or weak?" Valeriana checked carefully, and Harry thought the question was more for Dumbledore's benefit than his. The man was probably shocked that he was outright asking a vampire to drink from him.

Harry shook his head minutely in reply and felt Valeriana bend to renew her task, drinking until Harry nudged her in the signal he always used to tell her she shouldn't drink more. She stopped immediately, running her fingers lightly over the two puncture marks to heal them.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, moving his head to lean back against her shoulder, closing his eyes again at the reassuring touch as she trailed her fingers lightly along his neck and collarbone. "I feel much better now," he whispered, and imagined that she might have smiled were Dumbledore not there.

"I am glad," she replied softly, both of them ignoring the man who was watching them. "I had a word with Severus Snape," she said, feeling Harry tense immediately against her and trying to reassure him with a soft touch. "I informed all the other professors of your acute hearing last night, and thought it understood that raised voices were to be avoided. Apparently my fellow professor chose not to heed my advice." Harry's soft snort at the statement told her that he wouldn't have expected Snape to listen to any advice when it came to him. "He will not be making such a mistake a second time," Valeriana said calmly, and Harry stilled under her hand.

"Did you threaten him with death?" he asked curiously, and Valeriana actually chuckled in response. It was a rather sinister sound.

"There are worse things a vampire can do to a human, Mr. Potter," she replied lowly, and he shivered slightly, not in fear but in an instinctive response to her tone of voice. It was the natural reaction of prey in the face of a predator.

"Please, call me Harry," he said, hoping that she hadn't taken his shiver for fear of her.

"You may call me Valeriana in private, then," she replied equally, and he smiled. It was weird calling her Professor, and though he'd still have to call her that in class he could probably get away with slipping up and calling her by name now.

"That's a beautiful name," he said honestly, smiling a bit at the repeat of the night they met. "Like the valerian plant?"

"Indeed," Valeriana replied, a hint of humor audible in her voice to him. "Do you also know what Natassa means?"

"No," Harry replied curiously, cocking his head a bit but not moving from where he lay. "What does it mean?"

"Resurrection," she replied, and Harry smiled again.

"Fitting. When did you choose it?"

Valeriana hummed, and he could tell that she was pleased – she rarely hummed otherwise. "What makes you think it is not my true name?"

Harry chuckled slightly. "You chose it when you applied for the post here, didn't you? A new beginning?"

"Very good, Harry," she replied, her fingers wandering up into his hair. "But perhaps you should rest rather than consider the meaning of my name," she whispered into his ear. Her lips ghosted over the shell of his ear. "Sleep, Harry," her whisper compelled him, and he turned slightly before sinking into sleep, her arms holding him safe and warm. Whoever said a vampire's body was cold had clearly never met one before.

OoOoO

When he woke again he was surprised to find that Valeriana hadn't moved, but was still holding him in her arms. She seemed to be talking quietly to someone, their voices as low as they could make them.

Harry stirred somewhat, letting them know that he had awoken – he didn't think Valeriana could really hear his pulse quicken, regardless of what she told Dumbledore. A hand softly stroked his hair.

"Did you sleep well?" Valeriana asked him, and he hummed sleepily in response. Each time he was in her arms he felt as though he'd gladly spend the rest of his life right there.

"How's your head feeling, Harry?" came Hermione's worried voice from his bedside, and he reluctantly opened his eyes to give her a reassuring smile.

"Much better," he admitted, surprised himself to find that he felt pretty good. "Apparently I had too much blood in me as well as sensitive ears."

"Yeah, Professor Natassa explained," Ron whispered, leaning closer. "Did she really drink your blood? Why didn't you just have Madam Pomfrey drain some?"

"It had to be removed by a vampire, as it happened due to vampire blood," Valeriana lied calmly, apparently taking no offense at Ron's rather tactless question. "I shall leave you three to talk, but please stop by my office when Madam Pomfrey releases you, Harry," she said, carefully extricating herself from her seat behind the teenager. He scooched back until he was leaning against the pillows in the same way as he had been leaning against her, but missed her proximity immediately.

"Thanks for everything, Professor," he said gratefully. "Valeriana, I mean." She gave him a noncommittal nod, but her blue eyes seemed entertained at his deliberate mistake. Gathering her robes around her, she turned and left the room with measured steps.

"What was it like?" Ron whispered curiously as soon as the Infirmary door had closed behind her. "Having your blood sucked, I mean." He shuddered slightly at the thought.

"Nice, actually," Harry replied, knowing that his friend wouldn't understand. "Apparently a vampire's bite makes the victim drowsy and a bit numb, and since she was taking the blood from my neck my headache went away really quickly, so it was nice." Ron seemed unconvinced, but Hermione looked intrigued.

"Do you think she'd mind if I asked her some questions?" she asked him, and he stifled a smile – he should have expected that.

"I dunno," he answered honestly. "She didn't seem to mind me asking things, but maybe that was because she felt she owed me for drinking my blood or for giving me her blood to drink. You might as well try, though; I don't think she'd turn you away. She did come here to be a professor, after all, so she should like an inquisitive student, right?" Harry grinned at her. Hermione looked slightly flustered.

"Yes, well – I brought you my notes from Transfiguration; you missed the lesson and we worked on transfiguring rabbits-"

"Yeah, but listen, mate," Ron interrupted her, "you really should have seen Natassa when she came back from bringing you here! It was amazing," he said, an awed expression on his face in reminiscence, completely ignoring Hermione's annoyed expression at the interruption. "She came in and pinned Snape with this mad intense look, and I dunno how Snape didn't take a step back, because all of _us_ did and she wasn't even looking at us – and then she said 'What were you thinking?' all low and dangerous, walking closer until she was right in front of him. 'I told you yesterday what young Mr. Potter would be suffering under, and you ignored it, causing him harm that would have been grave if he hadn't called me immediately. _What were you thinking?_ ' Except I don't know exactly what words she used, obviously – and Snape said, 'He didn't seem to be suffering to me, and was expressly ignoring me when I addressed him' – that's what he said, right, Hermione? Right, and Professor Natassa suddenly snarled, grabbed him by the neck and threw away his wand when he pulled it, and said 'And so you thought to remove the earplugs I gave him, shouting in his ear despite the warning I gave you?' And she tore his left sleeve – and mate, the Dark Mark is uglier than I had thought – and said 'One wonders why the Headmaster would let you teach the boy who defeated your _master_. Ensure that you treat your students properly, or I will point out to them that to pass their N.E.W.T.s attendance to class is not required.' Then she released him and left, and I've never seen Snape so pale before! She was so scary!"

"It's true," Hermione agreed. "She looked like she was about to kill him, though her voice was perfectly controlled, and that was probably the scariest part. And then we came here and found her holding you while you slept…" she traded a speaking look with Ron and he nodded.

"Yeah, mate – she seems real protective of you. D'you know why?"

Harry hesitated, unsure what to say. He couldn't tell his friends about the summer, since that was a secret, so what could he say? That a vampiress who had met him for the first time the previous day had taken an inexplicable liking to him?

"I dunno," he finally answered. "We seem to understand each other, though – I really enjoyed the time we spent together yesterday before I went to Gryffindor Tower. She's actually pretty funny, in a dry kind of way."

"If you say so," Ron said doubtfully. There was a moment's silence before Hermione turned the discussion back to the topic of Transfiguration and they settled back into the usual routine. It wasn't as though they weren't used to strange things happening around Harry, after all.

OoOoO

Once Harry was released from the Infirmary he and his friends made their way to Valeriana's office, all of them ignoring the looks Harry was getting from the students in the corridor. They had long ago stopped being surprised at how quickly gossip spread, and everyone clearly already knew about the day's happenings.

"It's nearly as bad as last year," Harry muttered, calling to mind his fainting stints that Skeeter had reported on. "At least Skeeter isn't going to bother us this year," he said, giving Hermione a grateful look that she blushed at but waved off.

"Yeah," Ron agreed fervently.

Then they reached their destination, and Harry knocked softly on the door.

"Will she even hear that?" Ron asked skeptically, blinking when the door opened to reveal their History of Magic professor. She cut a striking figure in dark robes, back-lit by the muted sunlight from the shaded windows behind her.

"Vampires have more acute senses, Mr. Weasley," Valeriana answered his question evenly, "as you may recall from the side effects your friend is suffering from."

Ron blushed and offered an awkward, "Ah – right."

"Now, there are some things I must discuss with Mr. Potter; I will ensure that he reaches his dormitory safely." Harry grimaced slightly at the insinuation that he was incapable of going anywhere alone, but it was a clear dismissal that Ron and Hermione seemed reluctant to obey.

"I'll be fine," Harry reassured them, readjusting the bag strap on his shoulder. "You go on; I'll join you later."

"Alright," Hermione conceded reluctantly, taking Ron's elbow and nodding to Valeriana. "We'll see you later, then."

They left, and Harry stepped into Valeriana's office for the second time. "They were wondering why you seem so protective of me," he said softly once the door was closed behind them. "I told them I don't know, but that we seem to understand each other."

The vampire paused, her beautiful face as smooth as always. "I apologize. I did not mean to come between you and your friends."

"You haven't," Harry immediately denied, shaking his head. "I just wanted you to know that they'll be asking questions I don't have answers for. They might think that you're interested in me because of my name, or because I let you drink my blood..."

Valeriana exhaled slightly – her version of a sigh, Harry knew. All her emotional responses were understated, only hinted at, and it was only because they had spent the summer together that Harry could recognize them.

"I see. You might tell them that currently it is concern for your well-being, as I have never given a human my blood to drink before, and once you have become used to your new capabilities I will ensure to be less obvious."

"Sorry," Harry smiled crookedly.

"No," Valeriana said evenly, "it is not your fault that I asked you not to reveal the truth to anyone. However, you understand that it would cause us both trouble if it were revealed how we spent the summer. Especially due to your status in the magical world. Neither of us would be believed were we to protest that it was of your free will."

Harry grimaced, being sufficiently well-acquainted with the wizarding world to know she was right. "Yeah. You didn't realize who I was until that first History lesson, right?"

"Correct." She seemed somewhat chagrined that it had taken him saying his name for her to realize, and he gave her another crooked smile.

"Sorry that I didn't mention it... It was nice being just Harry for once."

"I understand," she said, her look somewhat thoughtful. "However, I have been wondering..." She hesitated for just a moment, then continued, "why you live with your relatives."

"Considering they hate me?" Harry pulled a face, finally moving away from the door to sit on the couch along the wall. "It's because of the blood wards. I'm safest there."

Valeriana's expressionless face seemed to freeze. "Blood wards?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "When my mum... died for me, it gave me blood-linked protection. I have to stay at the Dursleys because Aunt Petunia is my only blood relative."

Valeriana didn't seem to be breathing as she stared at him. Did vampires even need to breathe?

"You allowed an attacking vampire to drink of your blood even though it meant giving her access to your home? Did you even bother to consider that I might have been sent to assassinate or kidnap you? I would not have been able to enter your house without your blood in me." She seemed to be shaking.

Harry stared at her. He hadn't considered that. "I thought the blood wards only keep out Voldemort and his Death Eaters," he said faintly, and her head twitched in negation.

"Blood wards are the single strongest wards around," Valeriana replied flatly. "Their only flaw is that they can be circumvented by anyone with the appropriate blood."

"Then I'm not safe there from Voldemort!" Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet in shock. "In my fourth year he used my blood to get himself a new body!"

Valeriana stared. "Then perhaps it is fortunate that I was there this summer," she whispered. "Had he chosen to attack, you would not have survived without assistance."

Harry felt cold at the words. How could Dumbledore have left him there knowing he wasn't safe, when the professor had hesitated over taking him to Grimmauld Place because Bellatrix Lestrange might have been there? He sank back to the couch numbly.

"Well," Valeriana broke the silence quietly, "it is clear that you are no longer safe there. However, you were not planning on spending your next summer there anyway, so I assume the next point of order would be to find a more secure location."

"Will you help me?" Harry asked softly, raising his eyes to where she stood. Looking at her worried gaze in a smooth face framed by soft black hair, he knew that he didn't trust any other adult as much as he did her.

Her gaze gentled further, though he thought he spotted something like pain in them. "Of course."

OoOoO

They ended up discussing more than living options, and though she didn't comment on it Harry felt that she wasn't very pleased with Dumbledore. She seemed somewhat disapproving when Harry told her that he'd inherited everything from Sirius but had no idea of the specifics, as well as when he confessed that he had no idea what he might have inherited from his parents but for his trust vault. He wasn't sure whether her disapproval was for him or Dumbledore. Why hadn't he asked, anyway?

He also told her about the prophecy, and she stilled as she considered the implications.

"Either must die at the hand of the other..." she said to herself, attention turned inwards. "The rest is clear, of course – he marked you as his equal, you have vanquished him before, and he certainly will not leave you alive if he can help it... But why should you be the one to kill him? That line suggests that neither of you can die unless killed by the other, which cannot possibly be true. Where I to kill you now, you would be just as dead as if Voldemort had done it... Besides, he is mortal now; anyone should be capable of killing him."

Harry didn't interrupt, just listened closely while she took apart the prophecy. He hadn't considered that the prophecy made it sound like he couldn't die except by Voldemort's hand, though considering all the scrapes he'd been in over the years he wondered whether it couldn't be true.

"And 'power the Dark Lord knows not' is far too ambiguous... It could mean my blood, or less tangible things such as your willingness to help a complete stranger, your trust in others, your selfless courage... Far too ambiguous." She seemed frustrated. "It could be utter rubbish, of course – a simple self-fulfilling prophecy that is interpreted a certain way after events have transpired..." She pursed her lips slightly. "Yes, that is the most likely situation. However, it is best not to tempt fate should it be involved." Her eyes rose to meet his. "I see no reason why you should not be the one to deliver the final blow once he is incapacitated."

Harry blinked.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Valeriana's eyes flickered over, then she was on her feet and in front of the door in four strides.

"Good evening," she said to whomever stood there, and Harry heard Dumbledore's affable reply. "Thank you for showing my visitor the way, Headmaster," Valeriana said smoothly, the dismissal polite but still apparent. Harry wondered how Dumbledore felt at being dismissed so easily. Then Valeriana stepped aside – and Lucius Malfoy entered the room.

Harry stiffened, his gaze wary on the Pureblood as he slowly straightened. The man ignored him, however, and once Valeriana had closed the door she turned to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, could you please wait next door while I discuss the reason for Mr. Malfoy's visit with him?" A tiny nod of her head indicated another door, but her eyes remained locked on Harry's and he realized that she was giving him an opportunity to listen in.

"Of course, Professor Natassa," he said politely, rising and picking up his book bag. With a final glance at the silent Malfoy he went into the other room, blushing slightly when he realized it was Valeriana's bedroom. Somehow he kept ending up in beds around the vampiress.

"What do I owe the pleasure of this visit to, Mr. Malfoy?" he heard Valeriana ask, her voice as level as always. Malfoy's reply sounded emotional in comparison.

"My son suggested that I might be interested in some of the things you have to say of the current political situation, Mrs. Natassa," Malfoy replied – he probably thought he sounded smooth.

"I am unmarried, Mr. Malfoy," Valeriana said evenly. "Mrs. is not the correct address. Miss, Lady, or Professor Natassa would be more appropriate. Tea?" Harry grinned at how easily she had put the Pureblood off balance when he hesitated before replying in the affirmative. Harry wondered whether she really was a lady.

"I suppose the young Mr. Malfoy meant the revelations about his master," Valeriana said perfectly levelly as she poured her unexpected guest a cup of tea. Harry's eyes widened as he felt the tension rise abruptly.

"Are you accusing my son of being a Death Eater, Professor?" Malfoy asked, his voice low and threatening.

"You forget that I am a Dark creature, young wizard," Valeriana replied mildly, and Harry smirked at Malfoy being called young by someone who looked younger than him. "I can smell the Dark magic on him, an unnatural taint lying on his own magic. Tell me, whose idea was it to mark a wizard whose core was not yet fully grown? I doubt his core will be able to expand any further with such a block on it. Your son will most likely have the weakest magic of his graduating class."

Malfoy was apparently lost for words, because Valeriana continued talking. "Of course, he most likely simply wanted to take after his father. I wonder – if he were to use the excuse that he was under Imperius, would that suggest that you yourself had cast it on him? Or is it that someone is out to ruin the good reputation of the Malfoy family? Then again, were that the case then young Malfoy would doubtlessly have come forward with that information, painting himself as the tragic victim." She paused slightly. "However, I do not believe that is what you came to discuss. I assume that your son reported to you what I taught in my first lecture, and hope that you used your formidable connections to verify the truth of my statements. Or perhaps you simply thought back to a book you once had in your possession – a book that had once belonged to Tom Marvolo Riddle. I believe you gave it to the youngest Weasley, thereby unleashing a monster that could have killed your son just as easily as any other mortal."

Harry was surprised that she knew that much about his second year – he hadn't gotten around to telling her about his school adventures. Maybe the vampiric community was better informed than the wizarding one.

"Perhaps you might tell me yourself why you decided to pay me a visit, Mr. Malfoy."

OoOoO

"That was brilliant," Harry grinned at the vampiress when she opened the bedroom door. Malfoy had left, and even though Harry hadn't seen him leave he suspected that the man had left more confused and off-balance than the Pureblood had ever been before. "I especially like how you treated him like a child while being perfectly polite," Harry smirked. Listening to their conversation had certainly been an eye-opener on how to look down on someone while showing them every courtesy.

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself," Valeriana responded drily, but her eyes seemed entertained.

"Can you really smell Dark magic?" Harry asked curiously. He still remembered how she had told Dumbledore that finding Voldemort's soul pieces had been easy because they were so Dark.

Valeriana hummed slightly, leaning against the door frame as she regarded her young companion. The room behind her was illuminated while the bedroom was dark, again giving her a backlit appearance, and Harry was abruptly aware that they were in a bedroom as his hormones kicked in.

"It is not smell as such," she replied eventually. "It is more of a sense of something wrong. As I described it to Malfoy, it is like a magical taint. I did not immediately notice it on you," her eyes indicated his forehead, "but I believe that was because I was low-level, magically. With my magical level my ability to sense magic rose, and it was only at the end of the summer that I was positive there was something wrong about you. It was not until I learned your full name that I realized what it was I had sensed." She seemed a bit contrite about it, and he realized why when she said that she would have given him her blood earlier had she realized.

"No, that would have been worse," Harry disagreed with a slight grimace. "Can you imagine the Dursleys going easy on me because I had a headache?" Thinking back to the summer and Aunt Petunia's shrill screeching nearly made his head hurt even now.

"Perhaps you are right," Valeriana conceded, and he saw the contrition leave her. "How are you feeling now?" she asked then, her eyes giving him a brief but intent one-over that had him flushing red.

"I'm feeling fine," he replied automatically, and flushed harder when her eyes met his again.

She smirked slightly and remarked levelly, "Are you quite certain? You've gone terribly red..." She took a small step towards him and he felt himself go impossibly redder.

"I'm sure," he defended, ducking quickly around her and back into her office. Blinking, he stopped and looked back. "...That was quick," he said blankly, and she hummed – she was clearly pleased about something.

"It appears that you have taken to your quicker movements better than to your improved hearing," she said, both approval and relief hidden deep in her gaze even while her face remained impassive. "Jump."

Harry blinked. "Just hop once," Valeriana instructed him, and he hesitated only briefly before doing a little jump, feeling incredibly silly until the little movement took him as high as his highest jump would have.

"Whoa," he exclaimed as gravity pulled him back to the floor, and he was thankful that he landed normally, if a bit flustered. "Whoa," he whispered again as he realized that he had just effortlessly jumped three times as high as that little hop normally would have taken him. Looking up again, he met Valeriana's satisfied gaze. "This is why you thought I might end up falling a lot?"

She inclined her head minutely. "You will need to go somewhere private and test the limits of your movement – it is crucial that you move as a normal human would among others. Perhaps we should go on a little excursion tonight," she suggested with an odd glint in her eye. "Your speed should not match mine, but it should be a good run nonetheless."

A rush of adrenaline went through him. "You're suggesting..." He knew his eyes were alight at the prospect of running the way he had seen her when she had left Number 6 Privet Drive. Would he be capable of jumping up onto the roof of a building from the ground? He sure hoped so.

"Perhaps you should rejoin your friends now," Valeriana replied, but that glint was still in her eye. Harry supposed she was looking forward to running with someone. He wondered if she'd ever run with anyone before. Did she have friends among the other vampires?

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly, trying to dampen his enthusiasm at her proposal. "Are you really going to walk me to Gryffindor Tower?"

She gave him an unreadable look before twitching her head in a tiny shrug. "It would perhaps be better not to give your friends more reason to consider me overprotective."

"Right," he smiled crookedly. "I would like to meet you tonight, though, if that's alright?"

Her eyes seemed to darken and her lips twitched. "It is. I will look forward to it."

Harry frowned slightly – somehow her reaction seemed a bit off. "Alright – I'll meet you here at midnight, then?"

"One AM," Valeriana corrected, her eyes still dark on his. "I will see you then."

"Alright," Harry agreed, resisting the urge to hug her as he headed for the door. It was only when he was halfway to Gryffindor Tower that he realized what her strange look had been about – it had sounded as though they were arranging to meet for sex! Blushing furiously, he ducked into an empty room to cool his head. She had said she would look forward to it – she couldn't possibly mean...

No, he told himself forcefully. Maybe his words had sounded suggestive, but there was no way she meant hers the same way. He was probably making the whole thing up anyway. Maybe he was just reading things into the tiny variation in her expression just because tiny variations were all she ever showed.

Groaning, he rested his head against the cool stone wall and tried not to think about it.

OoOoO

"Hey, Harry," Ron greeted him when he reached Gryffindor Tower; Hermione had her face buried in a book, and Harry frowned slightly. Was she blushing?

"Hey," he greeted back, the noise level in the room making him thankful for the earplugs he had thought to put in before entering the common room. "How about we go up to our room?"

"Sure," Ron agreed, immediately putting away the homework he'd been working on – or sitting in front of, at any rate, judging from the limited amount he'd written. "You coming?" he asked Hermione, and she lowered her book but didn't meet Harry's eyes.

He found out the reason for that soon enough – it turned out that they had taken out the Marauders Map to make sure nothing odd was happening while he was with Valeriana, and Harry wasn't happy. It was lucky that he hadn't given Valeriana that hug he'd wanted to before leaving.

"Look; she's just trying to help me – she mentioned that she's never given a human her blood to drink before and was worried that it might have side effects other than the ones she'd already known about – and I don't need minding! She's been real decent to me, and I don't appreciate you spying on me." His friends had seemed shamefaced enough that he thought his point was made – but he'd be taking the map with him from now on. Maybe he'd keep it in the book Valeriana had given him, since only he could open that.

Sharing the conversation he'd overheard with them was great, though – Hermione seemed impressed by, and Ron outright gleeful at Valeriana's politely condescending treatment of the senior Malfoy.

"Brilliant," was all Ron had to say, and the two boys traded identical grins.

OoOoO

Acting like everything was normal that night was hard. Harry was so high-strung that he felt he must be quivering with excitement, and his stomach wouldn't stop churning as his hormones told him persistently that he and Valeriana might end up doing more than running together that night. He still had to go to bed normally, and got changed and ready for bed even though he knew he wouldn't sleep. The Marauder's Map and invisibility cloak were under his pillow with some clothing, a silencing charm on his curtains – he was ready.

A long, long wait later, during which he must have checked the time every five seconds, it was finally time. Heart thumping so loudly he could almost hear it, Harry got changed and slipped out of the dorm room, invisibility cloak keeping him hidden and wand held tightly in hand. He was tempted to run the way to Valeriana's office, but knowing they would be running later and that he might need his energy kept him walking deliberately slowly, one eye on the Marauder's Map that showed Filch prowling on the other side of the castle and Valeriana in her bedroom where Harry now knew the bed to be.

Then he reached the door to her office, and as quietly as he could he slipped inside, closing the door softly and slipping out from under the cloak.

"Valeriana?" he whispered, seeing that her dot was still in her bedroom. His heart raced. Tucking his wand into his pocket and leaving his cloak on the chair by her desk, he walked up to the closed bedroom door and knocked quietly. Another glance at the map showed that her dot didn't move – until then, it did, and the door before him opened.

"Harry," she said, and Harry tried to tell himself that her eyes were _not_ darker than usual, and that she had _not_ just verbally caressed his name. And that she did _not_ look amazingly sexy in the dim light. Then he realized what she was wearing and gaped.

"Is that-"

Valeriana looked down and smoothed a hand over the blue fabric in a way that almost looked self-conscious. Harry tried not to notice how the movement pulled the fabric taught over her chest.

"I did not think you would mind if I took it," she said softly, and he shook his head immediately, forcing his eyes back up to her face.

"No, of course not! You're welcome to it; I just didn't think you'd want to keep it..." No, he definitely hadn't thought that the beautiful vampiress would want to keep one of Dudley's old shirts. Even if it looked great on her.

Valeriana gave an aborted shrug. "It was comfortable," she offered, and he decided it might be better to change the topic.

"I'll just wait here while you get changed, then," he said somewhat awkwardly and took a step towards the couch. Once he was sitting a look towards the bedroom showed that Valeriana was no longer standing in the doorway, and he slowly exhaled, trying to get his physical reaction under control. He couldn't help it; he was a teenager and being in a darkened room with a stunning half-dressed woman was wreaking havoc on his system, goddammit! She probably knew it, too!

That made him wonder whether she was doing it on purpose, and he quickly tried to force his thoughts in another direction.

Glancing back towards the bedroom, he started – Valeriana was standing in the doorway again, silently watching him.

"God, don't do that!" he whispered vehemently, clutching at his heart as it pounded uncontrollably.

"I had simply wondered whether you would be able to hear my steps now that your hearing has improved," she said smoothly, and he glowered at her.

"Just ask next time," he countered in a whisper, wondering how long she'd been watching him for. "You're ready?" She just inclined her head slightly and he stood. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Wherever we want," she replied, that glint back in her eyes as she looked over at him. "Come." She headed for the door, but when he went to take his cloak she was next to him in a step, a soft touch to his outstretched hand making him leave the cloak and map on her chair as he followed her out of the room.

The castle was silent in a way that was familiar to Harry – along with the tight-clenched feeling of adrenaline and the fear of getting caught. But Valeriana was walking normally, her long, silent strides taking her quickly along the corridors, so Harry did his best to emulate her. To his surprise, he found himself moving more easily than he was used to, his steps seeming somehow longer and quicker now that he was actively trying to match her pace. The look Valeriana gave him was somehow approving.

Then they were outside, breathing the fresh night air, and he stopped when she did.

"Come," she said to him, that glint in her eye sparking fiercely before she turned and – leapt.

Harry inhaled abruptly, that leap taking him aback just as much now as it had at Privet Drive – then braced himself and pushed off from the ground as hard as he could.

His eyes widening, he was hard-pressed not to whoop as he soared through the air, feeling for a suspended moment like he was flying. Then he was on the ground, another bound taking him to where Valeriana was – he didn't know whether she had jumped as far as she could, but it seemed that he couldn't jump nearly as far as she.

But the rush was incredible, and when he grinned at her she grinned back, fangs glinting in the moonlight before they both jumped simultaneously, the vampire matching his bounds as they took off across the school grounds.

It felt like a dream, Harry thought as he soared through the air, landed and pushed off to soar again, Valeriana's hair streaming out behind her as she flew beside him, her eyes and teeth sparkling with the joy of the run. They reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest and Valeriana landed in a crouch, pushing off at a right angle and racing across the ground, Harry a breath behind her as he sprinted in her wake, his eyes on the woman before him as he grinned and pushed himself to catch up.

It took them under a minute to reach the Hogwarts gates despite the distance, and they sped through them without breaking stride, Valeriana leading the way away from both castle and nearby village in that breathtaking sprint. Harry had no idea how much time they spent simply running full-tilt, but when they reached a field they jumped across it, Harry finally allowing himself to whoop and laugh as he leapt over large bales of hay more easily than he had ever dreamed.

"Valeriana!" he called out finally, jumping directly at her and being caught effortlessly midair by the stronger vampire. Laughing breathlessly, he managed to say, "This is amazing!" before they landed, Harry abruptly finding himself on the cold ground under a very warm body.

"Isn't it," Valeriana grinned, her fangs glinting in the moonlight before she leaned in to whisper in his ear, her breath warm on his skin. "Can you imagine the rush of the hunt, young Harry? Racing after the elusive scent of fresh blood, knowing there is no way your prey could escape you, feeling the exhilaration of victory as you pin down your prey, baring their throat and hearing their heart racing from adrenaline and fear?" She licked up the shell of his ear and Harry couldn't stop the shiver that ran through him, adrenaline pounding through his veins and arousal quickly joining it as Valeriana nosed the soft skin under his ear.

"Right now, however, you are both my companion and my prey," the vampire whispered against his skin, and Harry's breath hitched as he instinctively turned his head away to offer her easier access to his neck. "So trusting," she whispered, licking his neck but not biting. "It is far too soon after the last feeding to take blood from you, young one…"

But her fangs grazed his neck, Harry acutely aware of only two parts of his body in that moment as her lips, teeth and tongue sent spikes of pleasure directly to a rather lower part of his body. "Valeriana…" he said faintly, and she nipped at the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

"Yes, Harry?" she nearly purred, and this time Harry couldn't convince himself that she hadn't caressed his name.

His face burned. How could he possibly tell her that she was turning him on, or that he'd never had sex before, or that she felt amazing against him but probably shouldn't be doing this?

It was the last thought that he settled for. "We probably shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, and inhaled sharply when she licked a delicate swipe up his neck.

"Why not?" she asked, something in her voice that Harry had never heard before but that left him breathless.

"I- You're my teacher," he offered weakly, and she chuckled slightly against his skin.

"And that is a problem how?" Her voice was smooth, caressing him even as her lips caressed his skin.

"You'll get in trouble," Harry said breathlessly, realizing his hands were clutching her back and loosening his hold. "Dumbledore will have to fire you if he finds out, and if the wizarding world finds out they won't let us anywhere near each other."

Valeriana exhaled slightly against his skin, the sensation sending another small shiver through him, and she lifted her head until her face was inches from his. "Thinking of me even in such a situation, young Harry?" Her gaze seemed even deeper than usual, unreadable emotions lurking in its depths.

"I can't think of anything else right now," Harry confessed quietly, knowing that she must be able to feel his growing erection where it aligned with her leg, a result of his long torso compared to her long legs. Her eyes darted to linger briefly on his lips before meeting his eyes again.

She exhaled slightly again – her version of a sigh. "Perhaps it is fortunate that I have you to act as my conscience," she said softly before leaning down to give him a feather-light kiss on the lips. A heartbeat later she was crouched beside him, his front cold from the sudden lack of warmth covering him.

"Come," she said quietly, standing and holding out a long-fingered hand for him to grasp. "Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the castle."

The return trip seemed twice as long and not half as exhilarating.

OoOoO

As the days passed Harry got more used to his new abilities, careful to average Ron and Hermione's steps now that he knew just how quickly he really could move. He also slowly adjusted to being able to hear better, and while he'd still end up going to bed with slight headaches they weren't the debilitating ones he'd suffered from at first.

It was rather reassuring when the Quidditch trials rolled around and he found that flying, at least, remained the same. The fact that he barely needed glasses anymore did make a difference, but his reflexes had always been quick and his broom didn't suddenly fly faster just because its rider was faster, so being on his broom felt just as right as it always had. Both Ron and Ginny made the team, and Harry was rather amused that Hermione had actually confunded McLaggen to help Ron make Keeper.

That evening, unfortunately, Harry had the detention with Snape that had been postponed once already due to a private lesson with Dumbledore, and he spent the entire time sorting out rotten Flobberworms from good ones while Snape glared at him. If looks could kill, Harry would have been dead the first moment Snape turned that glare on him, and by the end of the detention his corpse would have been burnt clear into nothingness – but Snape didn't voice anything past a few curt orders, and Harry knew he had Valeriana to thank for it. Snape didn't even complain when Harry put on protective gloves despite the professor's message that they wouldn't be needed.

The private lessons with Dumbledore, however, didn't resume. It seemed as though the Headmaster were leaving Hogwarts for days at a time, and though he'd told Harry that the lessons were leading up to something to do with the prophecy, it seemed they weren't top on the professor's list. Wasn't 'kill or be killed' or 'I'm the only one who can kill him' important enough to spare an hour for, Harry wondered bitterly, and eventually contacted Valeriana, fed up with the Headmaster. Frankly, in her lessons he'd already learned more about his archenemy than Dumbledore had ever told him.

Slipping into her office one night, he found the vampiress waiting there for him and tried not to remember what had happened the last time they'd met up at night.

"Hey," he greeted quietly as he closed the door, receiving an equally quiet reply from his companion. "Thanks for this," he gave her a crooked smile as he went to sit down on the other end of the couch from where she sat, kicking off his shoes and pulling his feet up onto the cushions.

"There is no need to thank me, Harry," the vampiress denied, apparently amused by something. "I have not yet done anything deserving of thanks."

"You agreed to meet up and help me," Harry pointed out quietly. "That's worth a thank you to me."

Valeriana hummed, her eyes softening slightly. "Offering my assistance is the least I can do," she said, and Harry smiled slightly.

"I was wondering if you'd assist me with something, then."

"Indeed?"

Harry nodded, his smile fading. "I need to deal with Voldemort; the sooner, the better," he said grimly. "I can't just sit around doing classwork when people are dying." Hannah Abbott had been taken out of Herbology the day before to be told her mother had been found dead. He hadn't seen Hannah since.

Valeriana said nothing, her gaze level on him, and Harry let the silence stretch. He knew better than to rush her, and he was both sure that Voldemort needed to be dealt with as soon as possible and that Valeriana would help him.

"In one month," Valeriana said finally, softly. "We will deal with him in one month." Standing, she walked into the other room, her voice drifting back to where he sat. "Horcruxes – soul shards – can only be created on magically potent days such as All Hallows' Eve or the Summer Solstice, and other rituals to prolong life or give strength require a minimum of a month's careful preparation. I believe you have a vial of Felix Felicis – you must be sure to drink it when the time comes. I have purchased a small vial from Professor Slughorn for my own use." She returned then, a long sword in each hand. "I have been in contact with Lucius Malfoy, and it seems that there remain few Death Eaters willing to defend their master when the fight comes to them, so a fight might best be planned for when Voldemort is alone, or among Death Eater traitors such as Malfoy." Reaching the couch, she sat with the swords across her knees. One of them was so long that it extended past Harry's lap as well. "I am no match for the wizard, magically speaking, but I doubt the wizard has been attacked physically recently. He is unlikely to be able to defend against such an attack."

"That's what the swords are for?" Harry asked, excited at the prospect of learning how to use a sword properly. He still remembered the adrenaline when he had stabbed the Basilisk with Gryffindor's Sword years before.

"Yes," Valeriana said, looking down at her lap and stroking the scabbard of one sword. "I cannot teach you the art of the sword in one month; we will instead have a brief lesson to see whether you have some natural skill with the sword, and if not we will find another method."

Harry was impatient to try it, but something about her demeanor gave him pause. "What's the matter?" he asked hesitantly, not sure what was off.

"I… have not used this sword in many years," Valeriana answered softly, her fingers still running along the lacquered wood of the scabbard. "Its last use was… unforgivable."

"Why, what happened?" Harry asked quietly, shifting slightly closer in a hope to comfort her. It sounded as though she needed to say this, whatever it was, but the way her gaze was painfully staring right through the sword in her lap was disconcerting.

"…I used it to kill my husband."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. She'd killed her husband? She'd been married? Why would she…

"What did he do?" he whispered, sure that there must have been some reason – Valeriana surely wouldn't have killed him if there hadn't been a good reason…

"He attacked me," the vampiress whispered, and Harry realized that she was trembling slightly. "Half a year before, he drank the blood of another vampire; he made me swear that I would kill him if he ever attacked me in bloodlust." She was trembling for real now, her fingers curled tightly around the scabbard, and Harry moved closer to hug her. It was awkward and uncomfortable, with her shoulder digging into his chest, but he squeezed her tightly nonetheless.

"Then I'm glad you did," Harry said softly, "and I'm sure he is, too. It's not your fault that he drank vampire blood, and he must have known what would happen to him before he did it… no?"

"Yes," Valeriana whispered painfully. "He knew, but he was curious… And I had to watch as he hungered for months, normal blood unable to satisfy him, until one day he turned to look at me and his eyes were hungry, so hungry…" She shivered convulsively and turned in his arms, the swords clattering to the ground as she buried her face into Harry's shoulder, her whole body quivering as he hugged her tightly. He didn't know what to say, so he just held her and hoped it was enough. She shed no tears – he didn't know if vampires were even capable of crying – but she clutched at him hard enough to bruise. Harry didn't say anything.

Valeriana exhaled shakily, loosening her grip suddenly. "I apologize," she whispered, and Harry shook his head.

"No," he said quietly, "I'd feel terrible if I had to do something like that, too… I'm sure that somewhere deep inside, he was thankful that you ended it. He probably would have killed himself had he managed to kill you and drink your blood, no?"

Silence fell, Valeriana completely still against him.

"Perhaps you are right," she said finally, her voice so soft as to be nearly inaudible. "Roerich might have ended his life had he found me dead by his hands. We lived but for each other, in those days…"

Harry's arms tightened slightly around her, hearing in her voice how close she herself had been to suicide. "When was that?" he asked softly.

"1782," Valeriana replied, and Harry blinked. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how long she had lived. Then he realized that she had probably been completely alone in the centuries after her husband's death, shunning all possible emotional connection, and his heart hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and Valeriana shifted her head with a soft exhalation.

"It is long past, now," she said softly. "I believe… it may be time to lay his memory to rest." Pulling away slowly, she met his eyes briefly before bending to pick up the swords she had dropped. Pressing the shorter one into his hands, she said, "Come; let us see if you have any skill with his sword."

OoOoO

He didn't, it turned out.

Valeriana promised to teach him properly another time, but Harry thought she was somewhat relieved that he couldn't wield her dead husband's sword as Roerich once had. It was a beautiful sword – a Japanese katana from the Muromachi period, a lot shorter and more curved than Valeriana's Edo period odachi. Harry didn't ask whether Roerich had been older than Valeriana, considering there had been an entire other period between the Muromachi and Edo periods. It hardly seemed tactful.

"Let us see how you fare with the wakizashi, young one," Valeriana halted his attempts, taking the katana from him and sheathing it smoothly. "It is the shorter companion sword to the katana, the most vital part of a samurai's equipment, and perhaps better suited to you. Certainly, it may be more useful in the coming confrontation, considering it will most likely take place indoors." The blade of the sword she retrieved was about 40 centimeters long, Harry figured, and when she placed it in his hands he stared at it, unsure what he was feeling.

"I see it calls to you more than the katana did," Valeriana said, and she sounded slightly approving. "Draw it."

Hesitantly Harry wrapped his hand around the hilt, feeling the texture of the wrapped silk threads under his palm as he carefully slid the blade out of its scabbard, the wavy temper line of the metal catching his eye. Breathing in, he assumed the stance she had taught him, and while he didn't feel it was the right position to assume with a wakizashi Valeriana hummed in approval.

"I believe we may have more success with this sword," she said softly, and he grinned at her.

She ran him through some basic exercises with the wakizashi, and while he felt incredibly awkward with the live weapon, she seemed to think he was doing alright.

"How do you use your sword?" Harry asked when she called a halt for the night, and the vampire hesitated, her hand almost reflexively reaching up to touch the hilt of her sword where it extended over her shoulder. It was such a long sword – over a meter in length from hilt to tip – that it couldn't be carried on the hip, instead resting between the wearer's shoulder blades.

"The odachi... is wielded quite differently," Valeriana said softly, shifting her weight subtly to assume a stance quite different from the one Harry had been practicing. "I personally learned the art of battojutsu – a combat form the objective of which is to dispatch your opponent during or immediately after the draw of the sword. This form of combat is typically reserved for katanas, and the odachi lost popularity in the early 1600s due to the impracticality of such a long sword and its slower draw. However, in the hands of a vampire..." she lunged abruptly, the sound of the sword leaving its scabbard vibrating in the air as the long blade curved down on Harry almost faster than his eye could see, and Harry flinched, instinctively raising his own sword over his head in a two-handed grip. The odachi struck his wakizashi and he buckled under the force of Valeriana's blow, his grip faltering and her blade sliding on to stop right next to his ear.

"Well done, Harry," the vampiress said softly, both of them frozen in place. "A normal mortal would not have even seen the blow coming, let alone been able to defend against it. Another vampire, on the other hand, could have evaded the blow or parried it fully." Slowly she lifted her blade, giving it an almost ceremonial flick before sliding it back into its sheath on her back and straightening. "It is not a suitable art against another vampire due to the arched strikes that are the basis of the art, but it is a quick and elegant way to dispatch a mortal or even an inexperienced vampire. For all his magical power, Voldemort would not survive faced with my blade."

At that Harry finally straightened, and Valeriana shook her head minutely.

"If the prophecy is to be believed, he must die by your hand. I would teach you to use my odachi, but it is a difficult art to master and you are far more suited to the shorter wakizashi." She gave him a level gaze, then bared her teeth. "However, I see no reason why I should not relieve the wizard of his arms before you kill him."

Harry's eyes widened, and he grinned even while a shiver ran through him. She looked so _dangerous_ in that moment, and it scared him on an instinctual level but thrilled him on a martial one.

"However, for now you should return to your bed," Valeriana turned to her bedroom, and Harry shook himself, sheathing the wakizashi and following her. He hadn't noticed the sword stands along the wall the previous time he'd been in this room, but now, seeing the three swords mounted decoratively, he wondered just how much it hurt her to have the sword that had slain her husband in her bedroom.

Quelling the urge to ask her whether she still loved him, Harry instead asked, "Can I tell Ron and Hermione about this?" They wanted to see Voldemort dead as much as he did, and they had been with him through everything so far – he didn't want to tell them after everything was over that, oh, Voldemort was dead, and sorry that he hadn't told them about anything.

Valeriana turned, giving him an inscrutable look before her eyes softened. "I apologize for the secrets I force you to keep," she said softly, and he smiled crookedly. "Feel free to bring your friends along tomorrow night."

Harry blinked, then grinned – he hadn't expected that. Dumbledore had let him tell his friends about things, but hadn't invited them to join him, and it gave him a strangely warm feeling that Valeriana would extend that offer.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," Harry grinned at her, already backing up to leave, and her tiny smile had him leaving in a great mood, almost skipping back to Gryffindor Tower.

OoOoO

The following night he and his two friends made their way to Valeriana's office, Harry having already told them that the vampiress had agreed to help him defeat Voldemort and started showing him how to use a Japanese sword. Hermione had chided him at length for meeting a vampire at night without telling anyone (read: them) where he'd be, while Ron seemed mostly excited at the prospect of maybe learning how to use a sword.

As they approached the door it swung open, Valeriana standing there in an unusual outfit that Harry recognized from illustrations of Japanese warmages in the book Hermione had given him for his Birthday as being the clothing worn under armor. Wide, pleated trousers were tied at the waist over a white shirt that fastened to one side, the sleeves ending not far under the elbow.

"Welcome," the vampiress said, placing her hands on her thighs and bowing, a gesture the students tried awkwardly to return. Then she silently stood aside to let them enter, closing the door behind them.

"That's the clothing of Japanese warmages, isn't it?" Harry asked, and Valeriana hummed quietly.

"Not quite – this is the clothing worn for practice of such martial arts as kendo. I believe Japanese warmages do indeed wear similar clothing under their armor, but I hardly qualify for such a position." Harry nodded, realizing that she relied on her physical abilities rather than her magic in a martial situation, but Hermione seemed to take her statement a different way.

"Of which nationality are you, Professor?" she asked curiously, if respectfully, and Valeriana turned her unblinking gaze on the brunette.

"I do not know," she answered levelly, and Hermione blinked. "I grew up in slavery, Miss Granger, and never knew my parents. While my early childhood was spent in Moldavia, I was soon sold to a man in Wallachia, some years later being turned by a Cyprese vampire. My parents were most likely Roma – gypsies." At the three students' nonplussed expressions she explained, "Moldavia and Wallachia now form the modern country of Romania, along with Transylvania. Cyprus is perhaps known to you." Her lips twitched, probably at Harry and Ron's still-blank expressions. "I see I will need to address basic geography in my lessons."

Harry chuckled wryly. "Please," he grinned, and there was a slight humorous glint in Valeriana's eye when she looked at him, though she didn't smile. Harry could tell his friends were unnerved by her blank expression and changed the topic.

"So what are we doing today?" he asked. "You're clearly dressed for sword practice, but you only have the one wakizashi, right?"

"Correct," Valeriana replied evenly, moving towards the couch setting and gesturing for them to join her. Ron's eyes widened when her back was to them, only now seeing the full length of the sword resting between her shoulder blades. "I am open to teaching the three of you the basics of Japanese sword fighting," Valeriana said, "but understand that you two," she turned to look at Ron and Hermione, "will not be involved in any planned confrontation. I would not involve Harry if not for the prophecy, as I am more than capable of taking down a wizard on my own. Indeed, I would be more likely to succeed without assistance."

"Interference, you mean," Harry grinned crookedly, and the corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

"Quite so," she replied blandly, only Harry hearing the amusement in her tone. Bending to pick up the wakizashi from the table, Valeriana said, "Considering Voldemort's superior experience and power in magic, I thought the best method to be a physical attack. You all have seen how quickly I am capable of moving – I intend to cut off Voldemort's arms before he has a chance to defend himself, leaving him open for Harry's killing blow. Portkeys will take us out of the building before the Death Eaters have a chance to respond to the attack – for I have no doubt that there will be at least inner circle Death Eaters present." Harry accepted the wakizashi from her with two hands and a slight bow that she returned before continuing. "I thought the best method to get close to the wizard to be requesting an audience."

"You want Harry to request an audience with You-Know-Who?" Hermione squeaked, wide-eyed, and Valeriana's head twitched in negation.

"No. The Lady Natassa, leader of a vampire coven, will suggest an alliance and bring along her protégé to the meeting."

Shocked silence; even Harry was staring at Valeriana with wide eyes. And then she chuckled.

"I hope you realize that I am not truly the leader of a vampire coven, my young students." Harry blinked in the following silence, then laughed.

"I dunno, that would have been pretty cool," he grinned at her, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

"Quite. I will, however, go by a different name when requesting the meeting, for Voldemort would no doubt be suspicious at the vampire who destroyed his soul shards requesting an audience. Perhaps I shall assume the name of Elizabeth Bathory."

Hermione gasped, wide-eyed, but Ron looked just as nonplussed as Harry felt. "Isn't that the serial killer in the late 16th century that was rumored to be a vampire because she bathed in the blood of young women?" she squeaked, and Harry saw Valeriana's amusement.

"Indeed, Miss Granger. However, Elizabeth Bathory was most certainly a vampire; she only lived approximately two centuries due to her folly, but it is well-known among vampires that she was indeed one. We are also entirely certain that she died, but it would be easy enough to convince a few humans that she did not..." Valeriana's head twitched in that abortive shrug, and Harry wondered if his friends recognized it as such. "However, for now I believe it is more important that your friend learn to use the wakizashi well enough to kill a wizard with. You are welcome to join us." Harry immediately moved to the space he had occupied the previous night and assumed the stance she had taught him; her slight hum spoke of her approval, and she told him to run through the exercises she had taught him before teaching Ron and Hermione the proper stance.

At the end of the lesson she addressed the three together. "Read up on glamors, and find one that is not easily dispelled once cast. When we go to stand before Voldemort, you will have a cloak and hood, but I expect you to look like a vampire underneath the hood," she said, stepping closer to Harry and tipping his head up with a hand under his chin. "You will need to have paler skin, more vivid eyes," he was suddenly extremely aware of her deep blue eyes on him, "and of course," her thumb brushed his lower lip and his mouth opened slightly, "the appropriate teeth."

There was a slight silence, and Harry felt what he thought might be sexual tension between him and the vampiress, as well as the awkwardness his friends were emanating by his side. Then Valeriana stepped away, gave him a smooth bow that he hurriedly returned, and accepted the wakizashi from him. As she walked away to place the sword in her bedroom, she continued, "You may also wish to search for a spell that might enhance your speed and practice dodging spells while under its effect – after all, if you wish to keep up with me you will need to be faster, and being able to dodge spells would be a great tactical advantage."

Harry's eyes widened – she had just given him the perfect excuse to work on his speed and reflexes with his friends without revealing the effects of vampire blood! And she did have a great point – there was no need to cast shields when he could just step out of the way of a curse. He wouldn't let Voldemort's Cruciatus hit him next time, he thought fiercely.

OoOoO

It took them surprisingly little time to find a suitable spell – well, it took Hermione surprisingly little time. She had known immediately where in the library they'd have to search; years of experience, Harry supposed.

Unfortunately, while they all managed to master the spell fairly quickly, Harry had forgotten that it would add to his speed, and he couldn't explain to his friends why he was quicker than them. Thankfully, he managed to hide just how much faster than them he was, and when they started practicing dodging – with them tossing spells at him in the Room of Requirement – he simply pretended that he had cast the spell on himself beforehand by faking the spell. Valeriana had explained to him how to simply cast a harmless beam of light, and that's what he did before their practices. It felt good to be able to move without restraining himself, and while it took him a bit of time to get used to dodging instead of shielding, soon his friends were unable to hit him with any spells.

His sword work also advanced, though not as quickly as his dodging skills. Valeriana taught him in a measured fashion, telling him repeatedly that a solid basis was the most important thing, and that in a confrontation he should be able to simply stab Voldemort before reverting to using his magic. She challenged him to attempt casting spells with his left hand instead of his right, which felt extremely awkward, but he kept at it, knowing he would feel safer being able to hold – and use – both the sword and his wand at the same time.

Then, far too quickly, three weeks had passed, and Valeriana informed him that she had arranged for an audience with Voldemort on the weekend. Harry paled but nodded resolutely; he didn't feel ready, but he trusted her. Her deep blue eyes on his, she held out a strange pendant for him to take.

"This is a portkey," she said as his fingers closed around the small silver coin dangling from a fine chain. "A denarius I stole from my Wallachian owner." Harry's eyes widened slightly and he held onto the coin more tightly.

"I'll take good care of it," he promised. Valeriana's eyes softened slightly.

"I have another one," she said, pulling out a similar pendant from under her shirt. "At the moment, the most important thing to you concerning that coin should be that it will take you to safety with a key phrase. You will simply need to grasp the coin and say 'blood take me' – do not say it now!" she stopped him before he could, and he blushed, slipping the chain over his head and tucking the coin under his shirt.

"Why that phrase?" Harry asked curiously.

"Why not?" she shrugged slightly. "I thought it might be something you could remember easily, but wouldn't say by mistake. 'Blood take me'."

"Blood take me," Harry repeated pensively, fixing the phrase in his mind. He definitely didn't want to forget it.

"So, once Voldemort is dead we will portkey out – perhaps after you cast a wide-range spell to debilitate as many Death Eaters as possible. You are also to use the portkey if things do not go our way." Her gaze was serious. "Do not neglect to bring your vial of Felix Felicis – we shall both drink of the potion before heading out. Best to have as many advantages as possible."

Harry nodded. "Should I also cast the speed spell on me before going? So that I'm as fast as you?"

"No," Valeriana immediately replied. "It is best to be at the speed you are most confident at and most used to. You have trained at your normal speed – to change it directly before a confrontation, even if it appears to be an advantage, would not be wise." Her eyes glinted. "However, someday soon we shall run together again, and then we will see whether you truly are as fast as I under influence of that spell."

Harry grinned, already eager for it – and only realized later that she had sounded completely confident that they would come out on top in the upcoming confrontation. It was with a spring in his step that he reported back to his friends what the vampiress had wanted to discuss with him.

OoOoO

Three days later he stood in her room again, both of them facing each other as they tipped back tiny vials of golden liquid.

Harry exhaled deeply as he lowered the vial, feeling as though an incredible warmth were rushing through him. His eyes met Valeriana's, and they both grinned, taking no notice of the two students watching on.

"That feels amazing," he grinned, and she agreed, an exultant note in her voice that he had never heard before. He could tell that his friends were taken aback at seeing the vampiress actually showing emotion, but Harry didn't look over at them.

"Let us be off," Valeriana said, crossing to the door in an effortless bound. Harry shot Ron and Hermione a grin before running to Valeriana's side in two big steps.

"The portkeys will not return us to this room," the vampiress addressed the students, "but you are welcome to wait here until we return. I do not anticipate it taking us longer than a few hours." With that she was out the door, Harry directly behind her as they raced through Hogwarts, reaching the staircases and bounding from one staircase to the next instead of actually taking the steps. It was exhilarating to drop several meters, land effortlessly on a step, and bound off the side again.

As they made their way recklessly through the silent castle Harry felt more confident than ever, sure that they wouldn't be spotted by anyone even though they hadn't checked the Marauders Map at all, and he almost felt as though Felix were guiding his leaps, each staircase shifting perfectly into his path as he flew through the air. It was an incredible, exhilarating feeling.

He didn't doubt his instincts at all when, upon reaching the ground floor, he grabbed Valeriana, pulled her aside and gave her a deep kiss that she immediately returned, the two of them coming together fiercely before breaking apart simultaneously.

"Let's go, my little one," Valeriana grinned dangerously, and Harry grinned back with the thrill he felt. And they were off, running to the Hogwarts gates and the edge of the wards. As soon as they were off the school grounds Valeriana pulled out a portkey that Voldemort had sent her, and pulled Harry into her arms. He grinned at her and drew his wand, effortlessly casting a glamor over his face that made him look slightly more vampiric. Somehow, even though he had never cast it without a mirror before, he knew that it had worked perfectly, and Valeriana's eyes darkened slightly.

"Beautiful," she purred, giving him a hard kiss before pulling the huge hood over his head, casting his face in shadow. Harry grinned again, this time with fangs sparkling in the moonlight, and touched his wand to the portkey Valeriana held.

"I request an audience with the Dark Lord," they intoned simultaneously, and with a jerk they were ripped away from Hogwarts to reappear in a large entrance hall.

"Good eve, Lord Malfoy," Valeriana said without taking her eyes off Harry, and a smooth voice replied. Harry thought he heard an edge of surprise in that voice.

"Good eve, Lady Bathory," the aristocrat replied, and Harry heard the minuscule pause before Malfoy said the surname. Obviously he had recognized Valeriana, and probably was wondering why the vampiress went by two different names.

"If you would follow me, I shall escort you to our Lord," the man continued smoothly, and Valeriana finally released Harry, both of them moving silkily towards their escort.

"Please do so," Valeriana said, her aura and movements dangerous, less restrained than usual. Harry grinned at the tiny curve of her lips, the fire in her eyes as he walked beside her.

"I was not aware that you were bringing a companion, Lady Bathory," Malfoy said, his voice noncommittal as he led them to the hall where Voldemort would receive them.

"My protégé goes where I do," Valeriana replied, and Malfoy must have heard the warning in her voice, for his shoulders tightened slightly. He didn't volunteer any other comments.

Before long they stood before large double doors, Malfoy bowing slightly as he opened one for them to enter. Valeriana didn't acknowledge the gesture, simply walking past the pureblood with Harry at her side, he just a few centimeters behind her. She was, after all, his Lady.

"So many humans," Valeriana purred as she walked to the center of the room, inhaling deeply the scent of fresh, powerful blood. Her eyes flashed darker, and Harry grinned. They were surrounded by members of the Inner Circle, but Harry felt more confident than ever at the shift of weight most Death Eaters standing there betrayed their disquiet with.

"Good eve, Lord Voldemort," Valeriana continued as though she had said nothing, the small smirk still curving her lips as she came to a halt in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on the seated figure at the front of the hall.

"Lady Bathory," the wizard returned, his eyes narrowed at the two figures before him. "You led me to believe you would come alone, and unarmed."

"I volunteered neither," the vampiress replied, her eyebrows rising slightly and her dangerous aura flaring slightly. "It is apparent why no other coven is prepared to ally themselves with you, if your first move is to offer insult."

Voldemort's nostrils flared, a disturbing sight when the man barely had a nose. "I meant no insult," he replied curtly, visibly restraining himself.

"I am glad," Valeriana replied, a slightly mocking tone to her voice. "My protégé goes where I do, and a vampire is always armed. You would do well to remember it."

Red eyes flashed, but the wizard restrained himself once more. Harry's grin didn't seem like it would fade anytime soon.

"I would have your protégé remove his hood, at least," the wizard said finally, twitching his fingers in Harry's direction. "Does he have a name?"

"I do, Lord Voldemort," Harry said cockily, sliding his hood from his head and shaking out his hair. They had charmed it longer, and he knew the glamor had changed his appearance enough for nobody to recognize him; even his voice was different, deeper and fuller. His eyes, though, were an even more vivid emerald color than they usually were. Placing a hand on the hilt of his sword, Harry gave the man a smooth bow, of a depth Valeriana had explained was that of a man to his equal. "My name is Hikaru Hyakuya." He had chosen the name with Valeriana; she had suggested 'Katsuro', meaning 'victorious son', but he hadn't wanted the name to reflect the Boy-Who-Lived. Instead he had asked her for a Japanese name that would reflect both Light and Dark magic, since after meeting her he had realized that not all Dark magic was bad nor all Light magic good. She had paused, smirked, and given him the name 'Hikaru Hyakuya' – the surname meant 'a hundred nights' and Hikaru 'light'.

Voldemort merely inclined his head, and Harry grinned dangerously. The man probably didn't know how to address him.

"You requested an audience," the man said coldly to Valeriana, and she raised her eyebrows slightly.

"So I did," she replied mildly. The silence stretched, and Harry could tell that the Death Eaters, at least, were on edge and unnerved by his grin. Neither he nor Valeriana turned their gaze from Voldemort, though.

"I believe you mentioned an alliance," Voldemort eventually bit out, eyes flashing furiously.

"I did," Valeriana answered just as mildly, and Harry smirked and turned his attention to his fingernails. For some reason Felix seemed to think it a good idea to antagonize Voldemort, and there were few things Harry was better at.

This time Voldemort tried to outwait the vampiress, but how could a short-tempered wizard beat a vampire of centuries worth of experience? He finally snarled, "You do not seem very interested in an alliance," and Harry heard a number of Death Eaters draw their wands.

"I was simply waiting to see if you have the patience required to win this war," Valeriana replied, tilting her head slightly. "It does not appear that you do."

At that, Voldemort rose, his red eyes murderous. "Kill them!" he screeched, and before the last sound had even left his lips Valeriana was halfway across the hall, her sword curving down to slice off the wizard's right arm. Harry launched himself after her with the most predatory grin that had ever graced his lips, his sword sliding from the scabbard and his wand slipping into his left hand with an ease he had never felt before. Valeriana was past the wizard already, her sword curving again to take off the wizard's other arm, and the man roared in pain and fury even as Harry's wakizashi sliced through the air to hit the side of the wizard's neck, slicing nearly as smoothly through skin and flesh; resistance at the man's spine, then the sword was through and Harry pushed off the ground, sailing over the man's body even as his head fell to hit the floor with a disgusting thunk.

Turning as he dropped on the other side of the throne, Harry cast, of all things, a summoning spell, and Bellatrix Lestrange flew towards them, the masked Death Eater screaming out a Killing Curse that Harry sidestepped easily. Valeriana intercepted the body and sank her fangs in the woman's neck, giving a deep suck that the woman stiffened at, thrashing violently before going deathly still.

Harry grinned; it seemed Felix knew what he was doing when he had him cast that Accio. The hall was silent but for the slurping sounds of Valeriana's feeding, and he knew she was playing it up for the Death Eaters who seemed too frozen to attack. He wondered when Valeriana had last fed; it was nearly a month since she had last drank from him, at least. Then she raised her head and grinned, her white teeth covered in blood – and the Death Eaters scrambled to get away, revenge forgotten in their panic.

"Snape," Valeriana called dangerously, and one figure stumbled and froze, afraid to leave but too afraid to turn around. "If I find that you were helping this monster, you will face a worse death than your companion here."

Harry's gaze burned into the Death Eater's back, and he saw the shudder run through the black-robed frame.

"I have been a spy for the Light since before Potter's birth," the man replied, his voice shaken. He didn't sound like he thought she would spare him regardless of what he said.

A taut silence fell; one that Harry broke.

"Prove it," he said icily. "Go to the Ministry of Magic and lead the Aurors here. Arrange for trials of all the Death Eaters you know. Insist on a trial of your own, and insist that all trials be conducted under Veritaserum. Ensure that Voldemort's body is burned with Fiendfyre once the press have taken photos. Resign from your post as Hogwarts professor. Do this, and your life will be spared." He paused, his eyes intent on the figure of his Potions professor. "Go," he hissed, and the man stumbled into motion, racing out as quickly as he could, the tableau he left behind frozen until his hurried footsteps could no longer be heard.

"We have other business to attend to," Valeriana said then, letting Lestrange's limp body slip to the ground as she straightened. Spitting out a mouthful of red saliva, she muttered, "Powerful witch... but such tainted blood. Disgusting." Grabbing Harry around the waist, she activated her portkey and with a tug they reappeared in front of the Hogwarts gates.

"Come," she said, and they set out with their swords still drawn and bloody. It was the height of disrespect to one's weapon to leave it dirty after a battle – but something compelled them to leave them so for the time being.

They slowly made their way to the castle, then ran swiftly through the castle proper, paying no heed to the portraits that snored along the walls. Both of them were utterly certain of where they needed to go, and once they stood before the gargoyle guarding the way to the Headmaster's quarters Harry gave the password he had used for the most recent private lesson – and the gargoyle slid aside.

They waited silently in the Headmaster's office until a bookcase swung outwards and Dumbledore stepped into his office. He blinked at the unexpected visitors.

"Professor Natassa," he greeted the vampiress, seeming composed but slightly unsettled at the sight of two bloody swords in his office.

"Headmaster," the vampire returned. "Voldemort is dead." Dumbledore gave a visible start at that. "The Ministry is being notified as we speak. There is to be no mention of a prophecy. Not Harry Potter slew the Dark Lord, but my protégé Hikaru." Harry grinned dangerously when Dumbledore turned his dumbfounded gaze to him. "Hikaru, this is my current employer, Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster, this is Hyakuya Hikaru. It was his wakizashi that took off the wizard's head."

Harry's grin only widened at that, his fangs glinting in the blue-white light coming in through the windows. "It was most satisfying, my Lady," he said smoothly, his eyes not leaving Dumbledore's face. "However, it would not have been as easy had you not removed the wizard's arms with your odachi," he continued respectfully, turning and giving her the bow of student to teacher.

"I feel you would have defeated him even without my assistance, my student," Valeriana replied smoothly, facing him and giving him the more shallow bow of teacher to student. "You did well this night."

For the first time that night Harry smiled instead of grinning, his eyes glowing at the praise.

"I must warn you, Headmaster, that prophecies are not infallible," Valeriana said levelly as she turned back to the silent man. "Voldemort is dead – I felt what remained of his soul pass on – and Harry Potter is here at Hogwarts. I suggest you do not tell anyone about our visit this night. I would prefer not to be implicated in the death of a wizard." With that she turned, Harry on her heels, and they left the office.

Silently they made their way to Valeriana's quarters. The potion they had drunk hadn't worn off yet, but their adrenaline was wearing off – at least, Harry's was – and he was about ready to hit a bed. It hadn't quite sunk in yet that Voldemort was really dead, but he figured it would soon enough.

"Hikaru?" Valeriana said softly, and he looked up at her curiously.

"Yes, my Lady?" he asked just as softly when she didn't continue talking.

"How did it feel to kill for the first time, young one?"

Harry just looked at her silently for a moment while they walked; she hadn't turned to face him.

"That wasn't my first kill," he replied finally, and then she did look at him. "I killed in self-defense, once."

She nodded, though her gaze spoke of a later conversation in more detail. "Your first pre-meditated kill, then."

Harry bowed his head to look at his blood-stained sword. "...Satisfying."

Valeriana nodded slightly, and they walked on in silence. Harry found that he didn't regret having taken a life, and that it wasn't solely because of whom he had killed. It had felt... strangely satisfying to hold the power over someone's life. He did think he'd feel guilty if he killed someone who didn't truly deserve killing, but he had expected guilt even over killing Voldemort, regardless of what the wizard had done. He had feared that he would feel like Voldemort, after. Why didn't he?

He raised his eyes to his companion's face again, and realized why. Voldemort had been a monster, killing people for his own gain, out of anger, or even for no reason at all – Harry had killed to save others, to save himself even. And somehow, even though he had the feeling that Valeriana had killed for less reason in the past, he felt closer to her with this.

"Does killing a Basilisk count?" he asked abruptly, and Valeriana looked down at him with a blank expression. "I just thought that I really enjoy fighting with a sword, and a Basilisk was the first thing I killed with a sword."

Valeriana still looked deceptively blank. "You sold the carcass, I hope?" she asked, and Harry frowned slightly.

"Well, no. It should still be where I left it."

Valeriana's gaze remained on him, then she abruptly changed direction. "Show me." Harry took the lead, taking her into the girl's lavatory and down the chute into the Chamber of Secrets. Her eyebrows rose when they passed the shed skin along the way, and her eyes widened when they stepped into the chamber itself and beheld the surprisingly well-preserved Basilisk corpse.

"Tell me."

And so he did – about the hissing in the walls, discovering he spoke Parseltongue, the writing on the wall and the petrified students, Ginny's capture and him going down into the chamber with Ron and Lockhart, finding there a strange, ghost-like Tom Riddle and finding out the truth about Voldemort, then having to defeat a Basilisk with the aid of a phoenix and Gryffindor's sword. He pulled aside his clothing to show her the unmarked spot where the Basilisk had bitten him – Fawkes' tears had healed the wound completely. He blushed slightly as he explained how he had blindly thrust the sword up into the giant snake's mouth, then stabbed the cursed diary with the Basilisk's fang. A long silence fell once he had finished, both of them simply looking at the dead Basilisk.

"Perhaps I shall go back and kill the Headmaster," Valeriana said finally, and Harry blinked. Her voice was too controlled, her body too still.

"...Why?"

She didn't look away from the Basilisk corpse. "It is impossible that he did not realize where this chamber was. You say that the Basilisk killed a girl fifty years prior to this incident, and that Dumbledore did not believe Rubeus Hagrid to be guilty of it. He would simply have needed to ask the ghost how she had died to discover the location of the chamber. An educated guess was clearly enough for Miss Granger to figure out what monster was located here – I have no doubt that the Headmaster reached that conclusion long before she. Also, it was the Headmaster's familiar that came to your aid, and while phoenixes are creatures of the Light, they do not do anything without an order from their bound partner. The phoenix would have only come to your rescue at the behest of Dumbledore." Harry noticed that she was trembling slightly, but he himself was too numb to move.

"He knew?" he whispered. "Dumbledore knew?"

Valeriana wrapped her arms around herself, still not looking at him.

"Dumbledore knew?" Harry asked slightly more loudly, and his voice was trembling. "He knew what was terrorizing the school, knew that our lives were at stake, knew everything – but did nothing?" His voice kept rising, but he couldn't stop it. "He knew where Ginny had been taken and did nothing? He waited until Ron and I had gone down into the chamber, then sent a ruddy bird?" He was screaming now, his entire body trembling in hysteria. "HE DID NOTHING?" he roared, and Valeriana spun, their swords clattering to the floor as she pinned him to the Basilisk and kissed him hard enough to bruise, taking his breath away and restricting his movements so that the only thing he could do to vent his frustration was kiss her back, swipe his tongue against hers and bite her lip until the taste of her blood in his mouth brought him to his senses. With a whimper he ripped his head away, a sob bubbling up from within him as he averted his face.

"Why," he sobbed, tears blurring his sight of her hand pinning his wrist to scaly skin. "Why?"

Valeriana exhaled, her forehead coming to rest on his shoulder. "I don't know, little one," she whispered. "I suspect it was to train you."

"Well that was a bloody stupid move!" Harry snarled in reawakened fury, trying to pull out of her hold again but powerless against a vampire's strength. "Why didn't he bloody teach me, then? Did he arrange for all the deadly situations I found myself in, year after year? Quirrell, the Basilisk, Sirius and Pettigrew and a werewolf, the Tri-wizard Tournament, facing Death Eaters in the Ministry? Was that all to 'train' me?" he roared, and he felt Valeriana tremble against him. Somehow, that tremble drained all the anger from him, and he sagged in her grip, panting heavily and trying to get his emotions under control.

"I'm sorry," he became aware of her whispering, repeating the words over and over. And with that, the rest of his anger left him.

"Sorry," he apologized back, his voice rusty and strangled with tears.

She shook her head slightly but before she could say anything Harry said, "He's dead, you're training me, and I finished my O.W.L.s last year. I can leave Hogwarts tomorrow, if I want to."

Valeriana stilled against him, and he lowered his head to rest against her shoulder.

"I don't think I can stay here knowing that Dumbledore was manipulating me the entire time," he whispered wearily, and the vampiress pressed closer, releasing his wrists and laying her hands instead on his hips.

"I will come with you," she whispered back, and he turned his head to press a kiss to her neck.

"Thank you."

OoOoO

Neither of them thought it prudent to rejoin Harry's friends right away, but it was getting late, and there wasn't much they could do in the chamber. They would need a specialist to take apart the Basilisk carcass, which Valeriana informed Harry was his possession as the person who had slayed it, and Harry knew that he would be keeping it to himself, rather than giving the whole thing to Dumbledore as he would have had the headmaster ever asked him about the carcass.

Silently they made their way back out of the chamber and back to Valeriana's quarters, Harry's face still hidden under the glamor of Hikaru Hyakuya. He wondered if he would really look like him as a vampire.

"Hikaru," Valeriana said lowly, and Harry looked up at her. He wasn't sure why she was still calling him Hikaru, but he rather liked it.

"Meet me in my quarters again on the weekend," she said, her vivid blue eyes moving to meet his gaze. "This week, go through your routine as usual and observe the people around you. Do not tell anyone of your role in tonight's happenings, and do not discuss it with your friends past tonight. I will meanwhile observe my colleagues and ask around about the man we discussed," she said, being deliberately vague, "and perhaps at the end of the week we will corner the man ourselves. But until then, gather information, and perhaps look into other wizarding institutions and compare them to this one." His gaze was as level as hers when he nodded, understanding and respecting her words. He would follow them to the letter.

"I was very proud of you tonight, my little one," she said even more softly, her eyes softening as she raised her hand to cup his cheek briefly. "You are a very talented individual, Hikaru, my light."

Harry felt as though his heart was going to burst, it was so full of warmth. She wasn't the first person to tell him they were proud of him – Dumbledore had done so that very summer – but it meant so much, coming from her.

"Thank you," he whispered, ducking his head slightly but not looking away from her eyes. They were so warm – he could see the pride in them. She gave him a tiny, soft smile, then reached out to open her office door.

"We have returned," she announced to the students within, and they jumped up from the sofa, immediately whispering questions at them that they didn't answer until the door was closed behind them.

Canceling the glamor hiding his features, Harry gave them an honest smile. "He's dead, and Bellatrix Lestrange as well," he said, pulling the wakizashi from the waistband of his Japanese-style pants – hakama – and placing it on the low table by the sofa. He and Valeriana had carefully cleaned their swords in the chamber, using the thorough care for their swords to center themselves and calm down, and Valeriana's odachi joined the wakizashi on the table.

"Snape was there, too," Harry continued evenly, "and should by now have brought the Aurors to the mansion to deal with Voldemort's corpse and any remaining Death Eaters. It'll probably be all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow," he smiled wryly, and Hermione snorted. "We also went to Dumbledore," Harry tried not to let any emotions flavor the name, "and Valeriana told him that her protégé Hikaru, not Harry Potter, killed Voldemort, and that he had best not mention the prophecy to anyone. Though I guess Snape will mention it, if he really gets a trial under Veritaserum," he said in an aside to Valeriana, and she sighed slightly.

"They will hopefully either assume that the prophecy was wrong – it has happened before, I believe – or that Hyakuya Hikaru might have fit the criteria as well. They may, however, pester you about it."

"Well, I don't plan on giving them any opportunities to," Harry responded darkly, and the other three in the room nodded with various degrees of visible determination.

OoOoO

Unfortunately, that proved to be as hard as they had all expected it to be. The newspaper the following day did indeed report – rather sensationally – on the defeat of You-Know-Who, and while they said it seemed that two vampires had killed the Dark wizard, they described the one to strike the killing blow as looking very much like their own Boy-Who-Lived: with black hair and bright emerald eyes.

And so Harry found himself the object of many dumbfounded stares, students clamoring for his attention and others backing away from him in terror. Finally, around lunch time, he got fed up and stood at the Gryffindor table.

"Alright, that's enough!" he exclaimed, bringing both hands down firmly on the table and glaring at the Ravenclaw who had thought he could push aside Hermione to get to Harry. "So that it's quite clear: I was at Hogwarts last night, and the last time I checked, I was _not_ a vampire! Why you all think I somehow broke out of Hogwarts, infiltrated Voldemort's secret hideout, and cut off his head with a sword is beyond me! You probably even think I went with Professor Natassa, and that she turned me into a vampire right before the confrontation!" The faces around him told everything he needed to know, and he glared around the silent hall. "Engage your brains, please – and leave me alone. I'm not interested in having another stupid title like 'Vanquisher of Voldemort'. Just leave me out of it."

With that he climbed over the bench and, pushing his way through the students that had congregated around him, left the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione right behind him.

"Well said, mate," Ron grinned, and Hermione nodded with a pinched expression. She had not enjoyed being elbowed in the face by an overeager Ravenclaw.

"Nice how you didn't tell a single lie, either," she whispered into his ear, and Harry's face broke into a grin.

"Thanks," he said, and she managed a small smile. "Let's head to the library, shall we?" he asked then, and her small smile widened into a proper one. Ron groaned.

"What for?" he whined, and before Hermione could admonish him Harry replied,

"I want to look up other wizarding schools," and they both turned to stare at him. Harry smiled apologetically at them. "Not that I want to leave you two... but I'm pretty sick of this." A gesture at the few students in the vicinity, all of them staring at him and whispering with each other, illustrated his point quite clearly. "And of being in danger of dying every single year – Voldemort's dead now, but it wasn't always Voldemort threatening my life," he grimaced, an expression mirrored by his friends. "Now that Voldemort's dead I don't have to worry about him coming after me or my friends, and I'd rather go somewhere where I don't have to be the Boy-Who-Lived..." Harry smiled apologetically again, and Hermione sighed.

"You're right," she admitted in a small voice. "You don't even want to stay for the rest of this year, do you?"

Harry wasn't sure why he was surprised that she had realized it so easily. He hesitated, then shook his head. "No," he answered quietly. "I just..."

Hermione just nodded when he trailed off into silence. "Yes," she said, smiling sadly at him. "I know."

Ron just looked on in silence, clearly worried about his friend but unsure what to say. And so they went to the library, gathering up all the information on other wizarding institutions they – well, Hermione – could find, and sat down to look through it all together.

It quickly became clear that each country had a school of their own, but unless there was a spell or artifact that would enable Harry to speak, write and understand another language, most of them were out of the question right away. There was no way he could switch to a school without first knowing the language, which meant either learning the language first, by magical or traditional means, or attending a school in an English-speaking country. There were a few such countries, and Ron moaned about his family's poverty when they came across the school in the Bahamas.

"I'm not even sure I want to go to school," Harry mused as he flipped through a book on American schools for magic. "I mean, I definitely want to learn and sit my N.E.W.T.s, but right now I'd rather study on my own, and private tutors might just be cheaper than one of these schools..."

Hermione hummed, a frown creasing her brow. "Wait a minute," she said, leaping up from her seat and walking away briskly. Harry blinked, but Ron snorted.

"Probably gone to get a book on prices for private tutoring," he grinned, and Harry chuckled in agreement. A few minutes later Hermione returned with precisely that, and a quick comparison proved that depending on how many subjects you wanted to learn, and how much time you needed with each tutor, it could indeed be cheaper than attending school.

Ron scratched his head thoughtfully. "I only want to get a few N.E.W.T.s," he said pensively. Then he grinned somewhat sheepishly. "Nah, then I couldn't be on the Quidditch team, and as Prefect I can't just leave." Harry laughed, realizing that he'd miss Quidditch himself, but noticed Hermione's surprised and proud look at Ron's acknowledgement of his Prefect duties. Looking between them, he wondered suddenly if they fancied each other. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he weren't around, he thought with a hidden grin.

OoOoO

The following day was Halloween, and Harry thought it decidedly odd when he realized he had killed Voldemort within two months of the school year starting. Usually their confrontations took place at the end of the year, not the beginning.

However, he didn't much appreciate Dumbledore's speech about a great wrong being righted, of deaths avenged and peace for those wronged. It did feel good knowing his parents' deaths were avenged, but Dumbledore taking the opportunity to point out once more his status as the Boy-Who-Lived, even if in a roundabout way, somehow rubbed Harry the wrong way. He doubted he would have even noticed a year before, but at the moment even the thought of the headmaster was enough to make Harry furious, and he studiously kept his gaze on one of the floating candles for the duration of Dumbledore's speech. He was glad to leave at the end of the evening.

OoOoO

Harry spent the rest of the week doing as Valeriana had instructed him to: He observed, and listened, and read. Wizarding Britain, as reported on by the Daily Prophet, went back to normal after some celebrations – Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy retained their status, Snape was still teaching Potions, and though Neville nearly went into shock when he read that Bellatrix Lestrange was dead, nobody seemed to give the other Death Eaters a second thought. Harry supposed the years of peace while Voldemort was a spirit had convinced everyone that the Death Eaters were harmless without their master.

Angry but deciding that it really wasn't his problem, Harry instead set himself the task of finding out as much about Dumbledore as possible. He had realized he knew very little about the man, and Hermione was more than happy to help him, believing it was a logical step on from his interest in history; but while it was very interesting to read about the discoveries Dumbledore had made with Flamel as well as the details of the war against Grindelwald, Harry didn't find anything that pointed to Dumbledore being manipulative or anything less than protective of his students.

Actually, now that he had calmed down somewhat and was doing research for once, he wondered whether Valeriana might not have been wrong and Dumbledore hadn't known about the Basilisk and its whereabouts – it could be that he just sent Fawkes when he realized Harry was missing…

But no, there were so many holes in that theory that Harry discarded it almost immediately. After all, it really was ridiculous to assume that such an accomplished and intelligent wizard hadn't figured out what beast was terrorizing the school, where it lived, and that Fawkes could just flame him into the Chamber at any point in time, not only when Harry's life was at stake.

So Harry struggled to hide his anger and act normally around everyone even while he analyzed everything he had gone through at school. (His anger was close to the surface due to the constant stares and rumors, so it was easier said than done.) He had no proof of anything, but he was beginning to see a conspiracy behind everything he had lived through, with Dumbledore behind it all – and he really hoped that wasn't the case, because the wizard had always been kind to him. Dumbledore had always seemed to be genuinely concerned with Harry's welfare, and that went a long way in his mind.

However, Harry did find that whether Dumbledore was behind his troubles or not, he didn't want to stay at Hogwarts anymore. He had good friends in Ron and Hermione, and a few nice classmates like Neville, but otherwise there wasn't really anything to keep him at Hogwarts. He could get an education just as well with private tutors, without having to put up with all the rubbish that came his way from the other students and even some of the teachers. He was coming to appreciate having such an extensive library at his disposal, but he figured he could get whatever books he needed outside of Hogwarts as well, and…

Harry lost his train of thought as something suddenly occurred to him: Valeriana had said she'd join him, but she was a teacher here – surely she had signed a contract at the beginning of the year and couldn't just up and leave? Besides, if they both left at the same time everyone would think they really were the ones to kill Voldemort, and that she'd turned him into a vampire, and there would be a huge number of rumors… Harry frowned. Frankly, the rumors already existed without any facts to base them on, so that really shouldn't factor into the decision – and Valeriana could probably care less if the wizarding world thought she'd turned him into a vampire. Harry wasn't sure himself how much contact he wanted to keep to the wizarding world – or wizarding Britain, at least – and his friends knew that he wasn't a vampire, so he should probably just ignore everyone else.

The problem with the contract remained, however, and Harry pushed aside the books on the table before him to pull closer the book Valeriana had given him for his Birthday. Opening it, he jotted down a quick note to Valeriana asking about her job contract and copied the text to the mirror, thus sending it to the matching mirror she had. Before he could even set the book aside a reply appeared on his mirror reading only **meet tonight**. With a slight frown Harry put down the book and turned back to the book on wizarding jobs he had been reading. When he'd had his first job counseling session with McGonagall the previous year he hadn't been able to think of a good job past being an Auror, and right now he doubted he wanted to work for the Ministry, so he was reading up on other possibilities.

He enjoyed fighting and dueling, and Hermione's statement that he had a "saving-people thing" was probably still true, but he couldn't see himself going into the British Ministry of Magic. Being a personal bodyguard seemed more interesting – or maybe, once he'd learned more about dueling and fighting, he could be a teacher. He'd actually quite enjoyed heading the DA, so he thought he might enjoy teaching others to fight and defend themselves.

At the moment, however, he was mostly interested in traveling with Valeriana and doing things here and there, and he realized that for that he'd need money. Harry knew he had a fair sum of money in his trust vault, but he didn't know how much, nor how much money might be waiting for him in another vault. After all, 'trust vault' meant that it was only supposed to last him till he was of age, and then he'd be able to access his parents' vault – right? He wondered whether Valeriana had any money. She'd been around for quite a while, after all, and she didn't need to buy any food… Though she had been looking for a hotel when Harry first met her, he remembered, so she must have had money to pay it with. Unless vampires could use their magic to confound someone the way wizards could?

Shaking his head impatiently, Harry tried to focus on his book again. First things first – finish looking into possible jobs, and figure out how to possibly make some money if there isn't enough money in the trust vault. Talk to Valeriana later. Bowing his head, Harry got back to the first task.

OoOoO

"I did some subtle prying," was Valeriana's greeting to him when he slipped into her office that night. She was seated on the couch, the moonlight at her back casting her face in shadows. "It appears that Dumbledore was more involved in the fight against Voldemort than I had originally thought. However, I could find no proof that he interfered in the happenings concerning you – past the things you yourself mentioned to me. I however find some of the actions you told me about highly questionable – particularly that of sending you and Miss Granger back in time to save a convict he could have freed more than easily himself. I am unsure whether that warrants you leaving Hogwarts, but as you have no doubt read there are other options. You are correct that I signed a contract upon accepting the post of History professor, but the only result should I violate it is a stain on my record – hardly a concern when 'Valeriana Natassa' does not even have a record, nor a need for a job."

Harry had drawn closer now, and as he sat down on the couch facing her he frowned slightly, distracted by the feeling that something was off about Valeriana's appearance. He was about to dismiss the feeling when he realized with a shock what was wrong, a little gasp leaving his lips.

"Your eyes-!" his exclamation came out somewhat strangled, and Valeriana broke the eye contact to look past Harry instead. Her eyes, normally a vivid shade of blue, were the purest black Harry had ever seen, darker than the darkest night.

"I am afraid drinking of that Dark witch's blood has had some… adverse effects on my physiology. The effects should wear off soon." Her voice was calm, smooth – but Harry thought it had a very slight edge to it.

"Bellatrix Lestrange's blood?" he choked out. "You've been like this for a week already? Why hasn't anyone noticed? What other effects is it having on you?" He didn't even realize he had grabbed the fabric of her robes until her eyes lowered to look at his hands fisted in the flowing fabric, and he released it hurriedly. Black eyes rose to meet his once more.

"My magical core received a surge of power; I had not known before, but it makes sense for the magic of a Dark witch to strengthen a Dark creature more than untainted magic such as yours. I know not why my eyes reflected the quality of the blood I consumed, but few seem to have noticed – most see me only from a distance when I give my lectures twice a week, and otherwise humans avoid interacting with me or meeting my gaze when we exchange words. Dumbledore did notice, and enquire as to the reason, but seemed rather discomfited by my explanation. You are the second to notice."

Harry frowned worriedly at her. "But it's not hurting you or anything?"

"No," Valeriana replied promptly. "It will most likely disappear entirely the next time I feed."

"Do you want to now, then?" Harry offered, tilting his head slightly.

Valeriana looked at him silently for a moment. "It disturbs you?" she asked then, and Harry considered the question.

"It's not… disturbing, precisely, just… off. You know?" Meeting her eyes again, he added, "It's like if my eyes suddenly turned brown – it wouldn't look strange to someone who doesn't know me, but I'd feel like I looked odd each time I looked in the mirror. Does that make sense?"

"It does," Valeriana confirmed slowly, apparently digesting his words. After a slight pause her eyes flicked to his neck. "If your offer stands, I would take you up on it."

"Of course," Harry said, immediately moving closer to the vampiress. She had already been sitting sideways on the couch, so she only needed to reach out and press his head gently sideways to rest on the back of the couch before bending over his neck. Harry felt a warm breath on his skin before she licked once, sending a shiver through him, and sank her fangs into his neck.

Quickly the familiar numbness spread through him, leaving him boneless and drifting, the strangest thoughts coming to mind in a detached sort of way. As she drank he wondered what their relationship was now – they had kissed several times under the influence of Felix Felicis, but he didn't feel like they were dating now. And though he was definitely attracted to her – and she seemingly to him – Harry didn't want to just jump into bed with her without any feelings involved. He thought he might be developing feelings for her… but how would she take that? She had been married before, after all, and he was just a human – maybe she'd tire of him and move on? His thoughts continued along those lines until Valeriana moved away from his neck slightly, apparently having drunk enough.

"What are you thinking about, little one?" her soft voice breathed in his ear, and Harry answered, "You," without thinking, his mind promptly stuttering to a halt at having answered so honestly.

"Oh?" Valeriana whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear and sending a small frisson of pleasure through him. "And what about me weighs on your mind, Harry?"

Harry sighed slightly, rolling his head forward until his forehead came to rest on her shoulder. "I'm not sure," he mumbled, but his breath hitched when she licked up the shell of his ear. "Don't do that," he said weakly, and she pressed a kiss to the skin below his ear instead, the warmth of her lips making him want to simply melt into her embrace.

"Why not," she breathed, and Harry sank slightly into her warmth. They were touching only in a few places, but even so her warmth seemed to beckon him closer, until he was right up against her, and Harry tried to resist that call.

"You're still my teacher," he echoed the weak warning he had given her once before, but though she had backed off that time she didn't seem inclined to this time.

"You didn't seem to care about that a week ago," Valeriana said mildly, and he reluctantly conceded defeat.

"I think I might be falling in love with you," he whispered, feeling Valeriana still at his confession. He knew she couldn't want to hear that – but she was always honest with him and he wanted to return that honesty. Besides, if that made her back off from him it might be for the better…

"I think I might be as well," came the utterly unexpected response, and Harry shot upright with wide eyes.

"What?!" he exclaimed, staring at her and only momentarily distracted by her pitch-black gaze before she looked away. "No, don't look away," Harry said, reaching out to touch her shoulder lightly, and her eyes met his once more. Searching her eyes, which were more uncertain than he'd ever seen them, he asked uncomprehendingly, "You think you might be falling in love with me?" When she remained silent, he asked confusedly, "Why?" He couldn't see any reason why she would love _him_ ; why would she say such a thing?

Something in his tone made Valeriana react, her hand coming up to cup the nape of his neck. "You're a wonderful person," she said quietly, her eyes not quite meeting his. "Kind, hardworking, accepting, strong – you welcomed me easily into your life when you had every right to fear or hate me, gave me a place to stay and human acceptance for the first time in far too long… You make me feel _alive_ , Harry, and to an undead being, that means _everything_. Everything," she repeated more softly, and Harry was abruptly reminded of something she had said concerning her late husband: 'We lived but for each other, in those days…'

And suddenly, he understood. Valeriana had lived for decades with no companionship, simply existing rather than living, until she stumbled across him and ended up finding a companion. He rather thought that anyone could fill that gap – except that she had told him honestly that in her experience, he was unique, and hadn't she lived far longer than him? Considering the guarded way even his friends acted around her, he couldn't say she wasn't right.

But love? Harry took in her expression, the slightly averted eyes that were still unnaturally black, the slightly tight way her face was completely impassive, the feel of her hand cupping his nape… and acknowledged that she would know her own feelings best. It was obvious that she was very fond of him, protective and caring, and for some reason, attracted to him – and Harry relaxed, accepting both her words and the fact that it was okay for him to develop deeper feelings for her.

As soon as his muscles relaxed her eyes flicked to his, an unreadable look in them – and Harry smiled.

"That's great," he said honestly, but Valeriana remained tense.

"There are issues," she said lowly, and he nodded.

"Of course," Harry acknowledged. "But they're not immediate, are they?"

Valeriana remained silent for a moment. "I suppose not," she agreed, clearly considering what might be an issue. The only issues Harry could think of were what others would think – which he hoped wouldn't really be an issue – and that she was a vampire and he wasn't, which he figured wouldn't matter for a few more years, and if they were still together then they could discuss it in more detail. More important to him was the immense age difference between them, but it didn't seem to bother her at all.

"Well then," Harry shrugged and smiled at her. "We can discuss those properly later – maybe once we've figured out where we're going from here?"

Valeriana nodded fractionally, her attention coming back to Harry with the sharpening of her gaze. "Perhaps you had best pay a visit to Gringotts tomorrow and enquire as to your financial status; if you did inherit everything from your late godfather you may wish to find out if that included any properties, as well as potentially arranging for a warding to be done around one so that you might use it as your home when in Britain. You will also need to arrange your withdrawal from Hogwarts with your Head of House; I have no doubt there is paperwork to be done in such a case." Harry grimaced; he hadn't considered that. "Other than that, I do not believe there is much to be arranged. Perhaps a means for your close friends to remain in contact with you beside owl post."

"That sounds good," Harry agreed, wondering what kind of methods there were. He knew about two different kinds of mirror communication, now – the one Sirius had given him and the one he and Valeriana used – but there probably were other kinds. Maybe two notebooks could be linked – Hermione would definitely like that.

"Will you come with me tomorrow?" he asked then, and Valeriana gave him a level look.

"It would be unwise for us to appear in public together," she replied noncommittally, but Harry just shook his head.

"You could glamor yourself to look like someone else," he pointed out. "Hermione, for example, or someone completely different."

Valeriana just looked at him before saying with dry amusement, "You really didn't learn anything about my kind here, did you? Vampires cannot disguise their appearance by magical means."

Harry gaped. "You're joking!"

"I have an extensive wig collection," Valeriana deadpanned, and Harry burst out laughing.

"I'll want to see that!" he grinned, and Valeriana's lips twitched. "But then I could disguise myself instead – I could go as Hikaru, well, maybe something not quite as obvious as that, since people might realize he's the vampire from the newspapers," Harry grumbled, "or I could go as a normal human and you could just wear a cloak with the hood up, no?" he looked at Valeriana expectantly.

Valeriana blinked once. "Why is it so important to you that I accompany you tomorrow?" she asked, tilting her head minutely in curiosity.

"Well," Harry frowned, "I'd like to have you there for advice – I have no idea how much money I have or what to do with it, I have no experience with properties or warding so I'd probably just say yes to anything the goblins suggest without knowing whether I'm being ripped off, or sign something without really understanding it, or all sorts of things… I mean," he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "I have money, but the only things I've ever done with it is buy school supplies or things in Hogsmeade, but if I want to travel anywhere I should probably figure out how much money I'll need and how to access it if I'm in a different country, and I might have to find a job if I don't have enough, and what-" a finger against his lips silenced him and he looked back at Valeriana to see her smiling slightly.

"I will accompany you to the bank, little one," she said, a tiny fond note audible in her voice, "but you need not worry about money. I have enough, and when we travel you will soon find that taking the occasional job is enriching in more than a monetary sense."

Harry blushed and ducked his head, realizing how young he must have sounded, but when he apologized Valeriana actually chuckled quietly.

"Ah, but that is part of your appeal, Harry," she told him. "You are young and full of life, eager to experience the world but wise enough to know to plan in advance, and mature enough to ask for help when you need it. That is nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry was still blushing, but he couldn't help but feel a warm glow at her words. No one had ever complimented him so highly, and to know that she considered him even the slightest bit mature –wise, even! – made him feel incredibly proud. Maybe the vast age difference really wasn't an issue.

"Thanks," he mumbled in happy embarrassment, and she smiled at him.

"Then let us plan your disguise for tomorrow's excursion…"

OoOoO

The next day was grey and dreary; the perfect weather for a hooded cloak, to Harry's relief.

"I'll let you know how it went when I get back," he told his two friends as he slipped on his invisibility cloak, giving them a little grin before disappearing from sight.

"Good luck!" Ron encouraged him, and Harry thanked him before leaving, slipping out of the abandoned classroom and heading for the Entrance Hall where he'd meet Valeriana. He had already changed his looks with a glamor in a way that Hermione deemed the most inconspicuous – mousy brown hair, brown eyes, a slightly rounder face – and would be heading out of Hogwarts under his cloak to avoid attracting attention.

Lingering in the Entrance Hall, he was surprised to find Valeriana emerge from the dungeons rather than coming down the stairs from the upper levels, but fell into step with her silently as she made her way out of the castle.

"I was reminding Snape of the conditions you set him last week," Valeriana said lowly when they were halfway to the Hogwarts gates. "I have yet to see any mention of Death Eaters being put on trial, though he insists he has been making every effort to see it organized. He also claimed he handed in his resignation and will be leaving Hogwarts at the end of the academic year. I do believe he is afraid of you, little one," she said with dark amusement. "With good reason," Valeriana added yet more lowly. "You were quite impressive as Hikaru, youngling."

Harry grinned at the praise that she seemed to be doling out liberally of late. Was it wrong of him to be proud of his actions as Hikaru, or wrong of her to praise him so for killing a man? Deciding that was a weighty question he'd consider properly another time, he instead retorted, "Youngling? Can't you give me a single nickname that doesn't have something to do with my age?" He tried to sound sullen but couldn't help his invisible grin.

"I did not realize 'my light' had anything to do with your age," Valeriana deadpanned, but Harry grinned harder knowing she was amused.

"Oh, fine," he grumbled good-naturedly, following her out the Hogwarts gates. "How are we getting to Diagon Alley, anyway?"

"We will floo from the Three Broomsticks," Valeriana replied, leading the way down to Hogsmeade. "I believe it is most likely safe for you to remove your cloak now, Harry."

"Alright," he agreed easily, taking off his cloak and stuffing it into his bag. "Shouldn't we give me another name? I've never met another Harry before."

"Paul," Valeriana suggested promptly, and Harry gave her a curious look. She twitched one shoulder. "It means 'humble' or 'small'. Fitting for today's excursion." Harry just smiled in agreement.

OoOoO

They flooed from the Three Broomsticks to the Leaky Cauldron (a Sickle each), and Valeriana pulled up her hood when she stepped out of the floo into the busy pub.

"Come, Paul," she said quietly, leading the way out back to the brick wall blocking the entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Why do they insist on this wall?" she muttered testily, gesturing for Harry to tap the bricks with his wand. He looked at the bricks uncertainly and tried to remember where Hagrid had tapped them back when he was eleven and new to the wizarding world, but the combination he tried didn't cause the bricks to move aside.

"Wizards," Valeriana muttered disgustedly, true distaste audible in her voice for the first time. After a flicked glance at the door leading to the pub she grabbed Harry – and jumped. He gasped and held on to her, and a moment later they landed on the roof of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Whoa," he said quietly, looking down at the bustling street below. They had just jumped up several floors.

"This way," Valeriana put him down and set off over the roof in the direction of Gringotts. She was walking a little too quickly for a normal human to keep up with, but Harry refrained from pointing it out, unsure what her reaction might be. It turned out that he didn't need to, though – she slowed down of her own accord, and Harry realized why when he saw they'd reached a slanted roof. Valeriana sighed slightly and picked up Harry again – and he got to experience a vampire's true speed.

Valeriana coiled slightly into herself, like a cat about to lunge, and released that tension not in a huge jump as the one before, but in a sprint faster than any mortal being could achieve, dashing over the rooftops almost faster than the eye could perceive, Harry's weight inconsequential to the vampiress. Then a drop – and they alighted on Gringotts' steps, startling the goblin guards that immediately lowered their weapons to point at them.

"Peace," Valeriana said lowly, setting Harry down and facing the goblins squarely, her vampiric features just barely visible under her hood. "Pardon our unorthodox entrance." The guards didn't seem happy about it, but warily lowered their weapons and let them pass.

Once they had reached the main hall Valeriana informed a passing goblin, "We require a private room to discuss my companion's vaults and inheritance," apparently uncaring that the proper protocol was to join a line in front of a teller. The goblin seemed affronted that she wouldn't follow the proper protocol – until he saw her face and paled.

"Right this way, Lady," he said hurriedly, gesturing for them to follow him. Harry, who had never seen any goblin be anything but unpleasant, stared at the short being's back.

"Does he know you?" he whispered to Valeriana, and the look she gave him was almost amused.

"It is best to show a vampire the greatest respect, young one," she replied just as lowly. "Many of us are… somewhat irascible." At his blank look her lips twitched. "Short-tempered," she explained. "The younger vampires have very little control over their more base instincts, while the older vampires are rarely patient with others, particularly with mortals for their inherent lack of speed."

Harry snorted at that. "Where do you factor into that?"

"I would have been merely displeased to have been kept waiting," Valeriana answered mildly, and bared her fangs in a dark grin when the goblin leading them noticeably quickened his pace. It was only a minute later that he bowed them into a room, assuring them that they would be attended to immediately, and they settled into the two chairs in front of the large desk. Harry noticed that Valeriana had a dark smile playing around her lips much as she had when they had met with Voldemort, and realized that she let her vampiric nature show when it suited her. He had to admit that it did have a useful effect on the next goblin when he arrived.

"Lady," the goblin bowed deeply, a nervous edge to his movements. "And sir. My colleague tells me you are here to attend to an inheritance and a series of vaults. How might I be of assistance?"

Valeriana made a small motion at Harry, and he remembered that she was only there for support. Willfully suppressing the urge to start with 'er', Harry said, "My name is Harry Potter, and I want to know what I inherited from Sirius Black," he said his late godfather's name painfully but continued on, "and also what my parents left for me, including the amount of money in my trust vault."

Judging by the nervous way the goblin was toying with his shirt collar, he had heard the rumors that Harry had killed Voldemort with the help of a vampire, and was now somewhat afraid they were true.

"Of course, sir," the goblin said, pulling out a piece of parchment and quill swiftly. Scribbling something on it, he slid the parchment over the table to Harry, lines of writing magically appearing on the surface.

"That is a complete list of the funds and items willed to you by Sirius Orion Black," the goblin explained, pulling forth another sheet of parchment and adding something to it, "and these are the contents of the Potter vaults, the first of which you already have access to and the second of which will be open to you upon your 17th Birthday."

"Thank you," Harry said distractedly as he skimmed over the two lists, his mind blank at the numbers featured there. He thought it sounded like an awful lot of money – and he owned several properties as well!

"What is the status of the properties?" Valeriana enquired of the goblin, her mind a step ahead of Harry's.

"The Potter cottage was mostly destroyed and now remains a burnt-out husk as a type of memorial," the goblin said with a quick look at Harry that the student didn't see, "the Black townhouse remains in a state of limbo until a Black takes control of the wards, and the Potter and Black manors have stood empty since the previous generation married and chose other properties to live in, but their wards should be as strong as ever. Should Mister Potter decide that the wards are not up to the standard he wishes, we will of course be happy to update them free of charge."

Harry did his very best not to look up in shock at that statement – he didn't think goblins did anything for free! – but somehow managed to keep his head down and his wide eyes on the parchment before him.

"I expected nothing less," Valeriana said smoothly, and Harry realized the goblin was intimidated enough of her to do everything he could to keep her happy. Harry wondered whether there was a bloody past between goblins and vampires – or had goblins always known to be wary when in the presence of such natural predators?

"What about the Black vaults?" Harry questioned before the tense silence could stretch further. "Am I able to access them now, or do I have to wait on my 17th Birthday?"

"You are allowed access to all your vaults but for the main Potter vault, sir," the goblin answered promptly. "Do you wish for a tour of your vaults?"

"Yes, please," Harry nodded and stood. "Er – can I keep these?" he gestured at the two sheets of parchment, and the goblin immediately told him that of course he could. "Thank you." Harry took the sheets and folded them carefully before slipping them into his bag, not noticing the goblin's wince at the treatment of parchment – which should be rolled up, not folded – nor Valeriana's amusement.

"Right this way, sir, Lady," the goblin said, personally leading through the corridors to the carts leading to the vaults. "Which vaults would you like to see first, sir?"

Harry hesitated before saying, "My trust vault, please."

"He will require a pouch that allows him to withdraw money directly from his vault without having to come here in person," Valeriana said pointedly as she stepped into the cart. "It would also be advantageous if he had the possibility to withdraw Muggle currency regardless of where in the world he finds himself."

"Of course, Lady," the goblin assured her as he joined the cart goblin in the front seat. "To the Potter trust vault," he told the other goblin lowly, and as they jerked into motion he asked Valeriana, "Will you also be wanting to visit a vault?"

"No," Valeriana answered shortly. "I already own a pouch suitable to my needs."

The goblin wisely limited himself to a nod, and then the cart lurched into a dive, sending them careening along the tracks at a breakneck pace that had Harry letting out a whoop and Valeriana looking over at him with sparkling eyes. It seemed they both liked the adrenaline rush equally.

OoOoO

The rest of their time in Gringotts went by quickly, the goblins practically falling over themselves in an effort to keep their two customers happy, and they left feeling satisfied with their visit.

"Do you think they'll treat me that way even if I come here without you?" Harry asked with a mischievous grin that Valeriana returned in a brief quirk of her lips.

"Possibly," she allowed, and Harry laughed.

"Awesome."

Valeriana smirked slightly and led him across Diagon Alley to a side street that Harry recognized immediately as being Knockturn Alley. He'd been led to believe that it only had Dark and illegal things, but followed Valeriana in without question, curious as to why they were going here.

"Knockturn Alley has a great many special shops," Valeriana answered his unspoken question lowly, leading him past a hag trying to peddle human fingers and a shop advertising cursed items. "Many currently consider 'Pureblood' synonymous with 'Dark' due to most of the reputable, old shops being located in this alley along with the more… shady stores." The dingy pub they passed only underscored her point. "However, many fail to consider that Diagon Alley is a relatively new street – most shops on that street are more modern and geared to a younger audience, while the old shops all remained here, where they were located for centuries before. Ollivander was one of the few shop owners to make the move, realizing that all new customers would be going to Diagon Alley rather than the historical Knockturn Alley. Incidentally, the Gringotts building used to be on the end of Knockturn Alley," she said, turning and gesturing to where the white marble building gleamed despite the dreary weather, "and now is considered as being 'somewhere towards the end of Diagon Alley' instead. The goblins were not pleased with the change," she chuckled darkly.

"The store owners of Knockturn Alley have actively cultivated the Dark front near the Diagon Alley entrance to the alley," Valeriana continued, "believing that only true customers should be allowed to venture near their shops. Most uninitiated wizards only take one look into Knockturn Alley and decide that it's not somewhere they ever want to go, leaving the special shops to attend to their true clientele." The small gesture of her arm had Harry glancing around, and he found to his surprise that there were fewer shady stores around now. Mostly the stores were simply of old wood, nearly black, with a very old building style that he thought looked a lot more distinguished than the higgledy-piggeldy building style of Diagon Alley.

"This is our destination," Valeriana said then, stopping before an old shop with a sign that read, in a medieval typeface, **Magical Communication**. Stepping inside, Harry was awed at the vast array of items on display there. The entire floor of the shop was one huge display case for jewelry, and Harry walked hesitantly on the glass, afraid that it might break and cause him to crush the beautiful items under his feet. One corner of the room was full of stone bowls and basins, there was a large assortment of incenses clustered on a shelf, and crystal balls occupied their own space. Mirrors of every shape and size covered the walls wherever there wasn't a bookshelf filled with tomes, and there were even some helmets lined up on a long shelf.

"This is all for communication?" he whispered, unable to believe that there were so many different options. "Did you buy the book and mirror here?"

"I did," Valeriana confirmed, walking over to a bookcase and pulling out a book that was similar to the one she had given Harry for his Birthday. "However, there are many other methods of communication, as you can see. Written or spoken communication, with or without visible interaction, is available in many forms." Gesturing at the stone basins, she said, "In those a capable wizard may be able to scry for someone, catching a glimpse of their actions, but they are unreliable and occasionally show the past or future instead of the present. I have never attempted to use one myself." Sinking into a crouch, she tapped the glass floor with a long finger.

"Many of these will be for vocal communication," Valeriana said of the jewelry, "just as many of the mirrors will be for visual communication. You will want to consider what kind of contact you would prefer to have with your friends, and buy something accordingly."

Harry nodded, thinking immediately that though Hermione would enjoy written communication, Ron was not really a fan and would probably prefer to be able to talk normally. Harry wasn't sure which he himself would prefer, and cast another look around the shop as he thought. Maybe he could get a book with a mirror on the cover like Valeriana gave him, but with the mirror being able to connect to another mirror like a telephone, maybe even with his image being sent to the other mirror and vice versa, and anything written in the book being sent to another book? That way he could have only one item to contact both his friends, and they'd have the kind of communication they'd prefer as well. And since they'd be at Hogwarts together he could always talk or write to them both at the same time.

Harry stifled a laugh at the thought of Ron's expression when Harry presented him with a mirror. Hermione would be over the moon at being given a book, but Ron would probably go red assuming Harry was making an unspoken comment on his appearance.

"Good day, shopkeeper," Valeriana interrupted his thoughts, and Harry looked up to find that a man had just walked in from the back room. He was a thin man with greying hair, but the way he carried himself spoke of competence and sharp wit.

"Good day," he replied decorously, taking in his two customers with a glance. If he thought it strange that the woman who had greeted him had her hood up and her face mostly obscured, he didn't show it. "What might you be looking for?"

Harry spoke up. "I was wondering – do you have a book with a mirror on the cover of which the book is linked to a separate book and the mirror to a separate mirror?"

The shopkeeper's lips twitched and Harry blushed slightly at his awkward phrasing. "I am afraid not, young sir," the man replied, "but I do have linked mirrors and linked books, and it would be a simple thing to attach one of the mirrors to one of the books. That is what you were looking for, correct?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed embarrassedly, and the shopkeeper's lips twitched again before he crossed the room to one of the bookshelves.

"Here are my linked books," the man said, pulling out one of the books slightly. "The top five rows are pairs, while the lower shelves have three or more linked books. The linked mirrors are on the wall right next to this bookshelf; have a look and inform me when you have made your choice." With a nod to Harry and a somewhat enquiring look at Valeriana that she shook her head in response to he went back into the other room, leaving his customers to decide on their purchases.

"Do any of them appeal to you?" Valeriana asked once Harry had run his hand over several books and taken out a few to look at the inside.

"I think I'd like one with lined pages," he said pensively, putting back the book he had just looked into. "Most of them seem to have blank pages, though, and while this one had lined pages," he pointed at one book, "I didn't really like the cover. What do you think?"

Valeriana hummed. "It is likely possible for the shopkeeper to add lines to a blank book, or create a custom book if none of these appeal to you. Which book cover has called to you most?"

"I really like this one," Harry smiled, unerringly pulling out a certain book. It was in warm red and brown tones with little details in ochre, the slightly raised pattern centered in the middle of the cover.

"The pattern is reminiscent of Indian henna tattoos," Valeriana said, tracing the tiny raised lines with a fingertip. "It is a very nice cover indeed." Harry gave her a delighted smile and pointed out another book.

"I like that one a lot, too, but the one you gave me looks similar so I think I'll get this one. Do you think it'll look alright with a mirror on the front?" Harry was honestly worried about that, and Valeria seemed to give it serious thought.

"It may be possible to simply place the mirror on the inside of the cover rather than on the outside," she said finally, "which indeed may be more appropriate should you choose a mirror with both vision and sound. Should that not be possible, I believe this mirror may add to the pattern rather than distracting from it," she turned and plucked a small mirror from the wall, laying it against the book Harry held. It was a slightly elongated mirror, the sides flat and the top and bottom ending in a curved point. The book cover looked nicer without it, but the mirror didn't precisely look out of place, either.

"That isn't bad," Harry agreed, taking the mirror from her and laying it inside the book. "It doesn't really fit on the inside cover," he said disappointedly, lifting up the book to look at the noticeable gap it left between the cover and the first page of the book. Valeriana smiled slightly.

"Then the front cover it is. Unless you would prefer to have it on the back cover?"

Harry's eyes lit up briefly, but then he shook his head. "Nah, that would be weird. I think it'll be best on the cover." He smiled happily, knowing that as soon as he bought them he'd have something to keep in contact with his friends with, and Valeriana nodded.

"Tell me, then – does any of the jewelry here appeal to you?"

Harry blinked, but looked around willingly. "Why?"

"If we are to travel together we may wish for a more inconspicuous and simple form of communication," the vampiress explained, and Harry felt a thrill go through him at the casual comment that showed she was serious about traveling with him. "I believe only the helmets over there enable telepathic communication, but verbal communication should serve us well. A ring or bracelet is easily raised to the mouth, an earring is worn close to both mouth and ear, and a necklace is accepted easily in nearly any culture." Seeing he was unsure what to choose she shrugged slightly. "Choose whichever appeals to you and I am sure it will serve us well."

"Okay," Harry agreed, wandering around aimlessly, staring at the jewelry below his feet. "You should look around too, though – after all, we'll be wearing matching things, right? It should be something we both like."

"Very true," Valeriana agreed, and had Harry caught the soft look she sent his way he might have wondered why she was so touched that he would say something so simple as that she should have a say in what she'd wear.

In the end they both found they quite liked a pair of earrings that were in the shape of a small black hoop with a warm golden stone set in the middle of it, like a bead on a wire. It was simple, but they both seemed to think it would suit the other, so they happily settled on it. The shopkeeper emerged from the back room just as they decided – and Harry realized then that he must have been listening to their conversation – and it didn't take long for them to purchase their chosen items, have one mirror attached to Harry's book and lines added to the two linked books, and leave.

As they left Harry suggested they go get their ears pierced, but Valeriana pointed out that they'd get a lot of questions at Hogwarts if anyone noticed they had both gotten their ears pierced at the same time, and that he'd be questioned thoroughly even if no one noticed her piercing, and Harry reluctantly agreed to do it only once they'd both left Hogwarts. To make up for it Valeriana suggested they go shopping for some proper clothing, and Harry was so surprised that he actually stopped walking.

"I don't have to go back to the Dursleys," he said slowly. "I only just realized. I'm really never going back there, am I." It wasn't a question, but Valeriana inclined her head slightly anyway. To her relief Harry broke out in a huge grin and set off down the alley with a little spring in his step.

"Real, proper clothes!" he cheered. "I can buy myself something decent to wear! Never wear Dudley's old clothing again!" Valeriana had a tiny smile on her face as she watched him enthuse about something most children took for granted, reminded briefly of her own existence as a human and the exultance she had felt the first time she had bought herself her own dress. It had been a big step up from the clothes she had worn as a slave, and she realized Harry felt much the same about his cousin's hand-me-downs.

"Come, then," she said, allowing the smile to remain on her face for the time being. "Let us go to Muggle London first. The basics are best bought there – and perhaps another time we can return for proper wizarding clothing. What style of clothing would you like to wear?"

And so they set out down Knockturn Alley and into Muggle London, Harry happily pointing out people he thought were particularly well-dressed and Valeriana commenting on his choices with an unusually light heart, temporarily transported to a time when she, too, had been young and hopeful for the future.

OoOoO

Ron and Hermione immediately followed Harry up to his room when he got back to the common room, and though Harry could feel nearly everyone looking curiously at his happy expression he ignored them.

"You did more than just go to Gringotts, didn't you," Hermione commented curiously once the door was closed behind them. "Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes sparkling – what did you do that has you so happy?" She tried to give him a suspicious look, but it was ruined by her relieved smile.

"Valeriana took me shopping!" Harry crowed, opening his bag to pull out a bunch of shrunk plastic bags with his purchases. "I don't think I'll be able to unshrink them, since her magic is different, but…" he still pulled out his wand and cast the appropriate spell – and nothing happened. Shrugging, Harry pocketed his wand again, his grin undiminished.

"She paid for all that?" Ron asked, wide-eyed, and Harry hesitated.

"Well, no," Harry said, suddenly feeling guilty for flaunting his purchases in the face of someone who had no money. "Turns out I inherited a lot from Sirius."

And as easily as that, the grin fell from his face and his eyes lost their shine. Turning back to his purchases, he stuffed them back into his bag, missing the angry look and elbow to the side Hermione gave Ron.

"But anyway," Harry went on, managing a little smile as he pulled out a mirror and two shrunk books. "They'll have to be unshrunk as well," he said apologetically, "but these are for you. The book for you, Hermione, and the mirror for you," he handed it to Ron. "They're for when I leave Hogwarts – we'll be able to talk to each other, or write to each other, much more easily this way. We'll try them out as soon as they're unshrunk," Harry promised Hermione, his smile more genuine at her enthusiastic look. "Anything written in one book will go directly to the other, and the mirrors can be activated so that we can see and talk to each other – and did you know that there are a lot of really cool stores on Knockturn Alley?" he asked Hermione with a wide-eyed expression. "It's amazing! Apparently Diagon Alley is pretty new and so all the old shops are on Knockturn Alley, and they put up very strange shops near the entrance to Diagon Alley on purpose, so that only 'true' customers would get to the good shops!"

Hermione's look showed that she hadn't known that – and was dying to know more. Ron seemed more skeptical than anything, and suddenly wary of the mirror in his hand.

"You got this on Knockturn Alley?" he asked warily, and Harry nodded, the gleam from before reentering his eyes.

"It was amazing – the whole shop was for magical means of communication, and the entire floor was a huge display case for jewelry, mirrors and books covered the walls – there were even helmets for telepathy!"

"Telepathy?" Hermione asked, her expression showing her friends that she would be researching it thoroughly. Harry wondered with a grin whether she'd come up with something smaller and easier to use – like earrings. He decided in the same train of thought not to tell his friends about the earrings he and Valeriana had gotten. He'd have to discuss with the vampiress what to tell his friends about them, actually – even if he didn't tell them, they'd figure out quickly that he and Valeriana were leaving together, and they'd probably worry again that she had ulterior motives… Yeah, he definitely would have to discuss it with her.

"Oh, and the trip to Gringotts was awesome," Harry said with a grin before his pause became noticeable. "The goblins were so afraid of Valeriana! They were practically falling over themselves to keep us happy," he laughed. "I thought it odd until Valeriana explained that most vampires are quick-tempered and said it's best to treat a vampire with a lot of respect."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, seeming to take the words to heart. Hermione however seemed more intrigued than anything.

"Professor Natassa doesn't seem like she wants to be shown a lot of respect, though," she said curiously, and Harry nodded.

"I don't think she wants to stand out overly much," he agreed, "but she can appear plenty dangerous when she wants to. Even Voldemort was afraid of her," Harry confided in a low voice, a knowing smile on his face when Hermione gasped quietly.

"Was he really?"

Harry nodded. "So yes, she can definitely look as though she'll kill you if you so much as look at her the wrong way, but I don't think she enjoys it much – it makes her feel like a monster," he admitted softly, and Hermione nodded sympathetically. "Though I think at the same time, she enjoys the power it gives her," Harry added thoughtfully. "I think I'd feel pretty good about it if I knew I could say something and everyone would jump to, actually," he grinned. Hermione's lips twitched when Ron agreed reluctantly with that.

"Does that mean I'm scary?" she asked deceptively mildly.

"Nah, we jump to because you're our friend," Harry laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulders.

"Doesn't mean she isn't scary," Ron muttered, and Harry laughed harder when Hermione swatted the redhead on the arm.

OoOoO

The very next day Valeriana unshrunk his things for him, and before Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower he asked her if she had any advice concerning his friends. She looked at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before telling him to fetch his friends and rejoin her in her office. Harry agreed and left wondering what she'd tell them; her expression had given nothing away.

Dropping off his things and getting his friends to follow him didn't take long, but though Ron seemed warily curious – he really wasn't comfortable around the vampiress – Hermione was frowning slightly as though she had her suspicions of what Valeriana wanted to discuss with them.

"Please, have a seat," Valeriana invited them into her office gravely. Once they were seated – the students on the couch, she in an armchair – she continued, "I must confess that I am unsure what to say. Regardless, you must have noticed that Harry and I enjoy a level of understanding that is rare between a human and a vampire, and I find myself loath to give up the sense of companionship I have found in him." Harry looked over at his friends to find Hermione with the same slight frown and Ron with a cautious expression. "It is my intention to leave this school when he does, and join him on the travels he wishes to pursue. I wished, however, to assure you that I have no ulterior motives; I have no need for fame nor fortune, and only a wish for the acceptance Harry has shown me. It is," Valeriana hesitated briefly, "rare in mortals."

"You're in love with him, aren't you," Hermione accused, but her tone was that of someone who had finally found the answer to a puzzle that had been bothering her. The frown had disappeared, and her face was alit, but whether at having figured it out or at the concept of Valeriana loving Harry, he wasn't sure.

Valeriana gave Hermione a level look. "Astute," she said softly. "Yes, the potential for it is there. How would you view such an association?"

Hermione hesitated, the frown making a reappearance. Ron seemed too shocked at the concept to do anything more than stare at the vampiress.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said slowly. "But – I guess I'm not against it if Harry wants it as well. I don't really _know_ you, Professor, but if Harry trusts you then I guess that's good enough for me. I think you understand how special he is," her look was almost warning, then, "and I'm sure I don't have to tell you not to hurt him. I can't really promise to hurt you in return, all things considered…"

Harry chuckled slightly at that, knowing just how hopeless it would be for one of his friends to try to go up against Valeriana.

"Quite," Valeriana agreed, though Harry thought she seemed appreciative at Hermione's almost-threat. "What of you, Mr. Weasley? You have kept your peace so far. What is your opinion on this?" If she shared Harry's fear that Ron would explode at her, she didn't show it. And to Harry's shock, Ron reacted quite differently.

"Well… I figure Hermione's right, I guess," the redhead said, though his face was that shade of deep red that it only went when embarrassed or angry about something. "It's up to Harry in the end, isn't it? Though mate, I thought… I mean…" Ron flushed further. "Don't you have a thing for Ginny?"

Harry looked at his friend blankly, unsure what Ron meant. "Er. Ginny? Well… I mean, she's very funny, and smart, and quite attractive, really," he said awkwardly, "but, I mean… Ginny's your little sister, you know? And you're like a brother to me, your family is like family to me, so… you know…"

"Right," Ron agreed, his face as red as Harry had ever seen it, and he knew he was blushing fiercely as well. Hermione just looked mostly amused.

"Honestly, Ron – I could have told you as much," Hermione chided him good-naturedly. "Besides, she's dating Dean Thomas now." For some reason she looked at Harry as she said it, and he blinked.

"Dean's a good guy," he offered at Ron's incredulous look. "He's really good at drawing; have you ever seen his sketches?"

"I haven't!" Hermione said, seeming pleased about more than the random information. "I'll have to ask him or Ginny about those. Wonder if he draws her?" Harry just shrugged awkwardly and Hermione shook her head. "Right. Anyway – thank you for letting us know, Professor. You'll both be leaving soon, then? What are your plans?"

Ron didn't seem ready to give up on the topic of his sister dating Dean, but Harry latched onto the new topic with no small sense of relief, and they discussed their rudimentary plans. For the moment they only knew that they would withdraw from Hogwarts and settle into one of Harry's properties – most likely one of the two manors – and from then, everything was up in the air. Hermione however made a convincing argument for Harry to spend the rest of the academic year learning from private tutors while Valeriana finished her contract, arguing that the vampiress wouldn't even have to be at Hogwarts other than for her twice-weekly lessons. Valeriana seemed inclined to consider the possibility, feeling a sense of responsibility towards the students now that she had seen how lacking their knowledge of history was, and Harry thought Hermione might be right when she told him he could get his N.E.W.T.s by the end of the year if he really only focused on a few subjects.

"Remind me again why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw?" Harry laughed, but Hermione just huffed at him.

"Honestly – shouldn't other students be able to present a decent argument? And shouldn't it be the Slytherins, with their supposed political cunning, that know how to hold a good discussion?" Ron vocally disagreed with that, and considering the Slytherins they knew, Harry was inclined to agree with him, but Valeriana seemed to think Hermione's first point far more important than House values.

"It is important to know how to present an argument," she agreed evenly. "Bartering for goods is the most basic example, and can make all the difference when you have little money."

Ron perked up at that, asking what bartering was and how it worked, but Harry could tell that Valeriana was speaking from experience when she spoke about arguing over the price of food. He wondered how long ago it was that she'd had to save her money for food, and knew he should look up the countries she had mentioned some time before – Wallachia and… what? Hermione would remember, he figured, and resolved to ask her about it later. She probably had already read up on the topic.

OoOoO

It turned out that Hermione hadn't found anything more than a brief mention of Wallachia and Moldavia despite the size of the Hogwarts library, and could only tell him that they were founded around 1340 and were now part of the country of Romania.

"She could have been born anywhere between 1346 and 1859," she said, explaining that the two countries had merged in 1859 into a larger country called the United Principalities, only later taking on the name 'Romania'.

"She was definitely born before 1760," Harry contributed pensively, remembering that Valeriana's husband had died sometime in the 1780s. Hermione looked curious, but Harry shook his head at her, unwilling to share something so private. "Her sword's from the Edo period, too – that lasted from about 1600 to 1850, I think?" He wasn't very good with dates, but that sounded about right. "Though I suppose it's possible she got it when the Edo period was already over…"

Hermione hummed noncommittally. "So she's anywhere between two and six centuries old? Do we have anything else to go on?"

Harry considered that, but the only other hint he could think of was the portkey she had given him when they had gone to take care of Voldemort, but for some reason he didn't want to reveal the coin he still wore around his neck to Hermione. It was so worn out that the images on it were practically indistinguishable anyway, so he shook his head. "I only know that she's over two centuries old." And not only because of the year of her husband's death, but also because the night they had met she had told him he was fortunate he hadn't insulted her style of dress two centuries before, having accepted only in recent decades that humans would never change. The memory brought a small smile to his lips.

"Alright," Hermione sighed, sounding frustrated at having too few pieces to a puzzle. "Do you think she'd mind me asking?"

Harry promptly shook his head in negation, knowing just how obsessed Hermione could get when researching something, and how Valeriana tended to treat her own life as a lesson in history. Or was that just with him? In her classes she was still taking them through recent history, after all, and she wasn't involved in that…

"I doubt she'd mind," he said anyway, because he honestly didn't think Valeriana would take offense at the question. Even so, Harry hadn't expected Hermione to nod decisively and get up with the clear intent of seeing Valeriana right away, and he found himself staring after her with wide eyes until her bushy hair disappeared through the entrance hole. Feeling somewhat dazed, he shook his head and looked at Ron, who had been listening in on their conversation silently.

"Mad, I tell you," his friend said lowly, turning back to his Transfiguration homework. Harry wasn't sure whether Ron meant Hermione for deciding to go ask a vampire how old she was or… well, that was probably it, actually. Deciding he might as well get something constructive done while waiting on Hermione, Harry turned back to his own Transfiguration homework.

OoOoO

"Professor, could I have a quick word?" Harry asked Professor McGonagall at the end of their lesson the following day. When she just gave him an expectant look Harry fiddled with the shoulder strap of his bag until everyone else had left the classroom.

Only once he was relatively sure no one would overhear their conversation did he address the issue he had approached her for. "I'd like to withdraw from Hogwarts," he said honestly, and witnessed his professor's expression going from thinly veiled impatience to utter shock.

"…I beg your pardon?" she asked weakly, and Harry nodded.

"I'd like to withdraw from Hogwarts," he repeated helpfully. It didn't seem to help McGonagall much.

"But – whyever would you wish to withdraw from Hogwarts?" the Transfiguration professor asked, seemingly unable to comprehend why anyone would want to do such a thing.

Harry adjusted his shoulder strap on his shoulder again. "I've decided to study for my N.E.W.T.s on my own, with the help of private tutors. Is there any paperwork I need to fill out? Can I get back the tuition fees for the rest of this year?"

McGonagall just stared at him for a minute. "You wish to withdraw right away?" she asked faintly, and when Harry nodded decisively she tried, "What about your Quidditch captainship? Would it not be better if you remained until the end of the year?"

"The team will be fine," Harry assured her, having honestly forgotten about it despite weekly practices. He didn't even have to think about suitable replacements, though, and added easily, "Ginny's nearly as good a Seeker as I am, and Dean would have made Chaser if Ginny hadn't been a bit better during the tryouts. Katie can take over as Captain, since she's the most experienced on the team anyway, so Gryffindor will definitely have a good chance to win the Quidditch Cup this year. Frankly, they won last year without me on the team, so I don't think me leaving decreases their chances at all," Harry said with a bitter smile. Umbridge's ban had been nearly unbearable the previous year – but without it Harry would have been more reluctant to abandon his team now, so he guessed he could thank the toad for that.

"I – I see," McGonagall conceded, though her lost gaze showed that she clearly didn't. "I will get the necessary papers to you by next week, and they will require the signature of one of your guardians."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, excusing himself with a smile though he felt anything but happy. The Dursleys would need to sign the papers.

Walking down the hallway with a frown, Harry considered how to get his relatives to sign something they'd refuse to if they realized it was something Harry wanted. Maybe he could pretend that he was fed up with the wizarding world and wanted to learn something 'worthwhile' instead? It wasn't really untrue, and Uncle Vernon would probably love to hear that Harry didn't want to be a 'freak' anymore. He had no guarantee that it would work, though… Maybe Valeriana had some method to compel a human to do her bidding? She'd said that high-level vampires could exercise a certain measure of control over a human, but as far as Harry knew she wasn't powerful enough for that yet…

Or he could just fake the signatures, Harry realized with a jolt. Nobody knew what their signatures looked like, after all, and who would bother to check with the Dursleys whether they'd signed the papers?

Dumbledore would, Harry thought darkly, and discarded that option. Could he emancipate himself? That would need their signatures as well, though, wouldn't it..? Sighing, he dodged a group of students walking in the other direction and considered how he could possibly get the Dursleys to sign the papers for him. Maybe Valeriana would agree to pretend he was being kicked out of Hogwarts and tell them the papers needed to be signed to finalize it. Wouldn't that make them happy.

OoOoO

That evening at dinner, McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table to tell Harry the Headmaster wished to speak with him, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he should have expected it.

"Thank you, Professor," he acknowledged the summons, a slight frown appearing on his face as he considered the upcoming confrontation. Was it strange that he considered it a confrontation?

Hermione shrugged slightly with an expression that showed she'd expected Dumbledore to want to discuss his plans with him, and Harry sighed as he realized he hadn't shared any of his suspicions about Dumbledore with his two closest friends. He didn't think either would really share his suspicions anyway – Hermione had too much respect for figures of authority, and Ron… Well, actually, if Harry made a convincing enough argument that Dumbledore could have helped Ginny far more easily than he had, then Ron would probably become suspicious of the Headmaster as well. Not that an enraged Weasley stomping up to confront Dumbledore, most likely publicly, would be a good thing.

"Well," Harry sighed, standing and running a hand through his hair, "I guess I'll go see what Professor Dumbledore wants, then." His friends made noises of assent, and Harry made to leave the hall, thinking all the while.

Dumbledore would want to know why Harry planned on leaving Hogwarts, and that was easy enough to answer truthfully – after all, it was perfectly true that his fellow students were driving him spare, he no longer needed the protection Hogwarts afforded him now that Voldemort was dead (what a joke), and since he only wanted to get a few N.E.W.T.s he thought his studies would proceed at a faster pace with private tutors. If asked where he'd live he would say something uncertain about having found out that he had several properties to choose from, and Dumbledore would almost definitely bring up the Dursleys, either trying to guilt him into staying there for their or his own protection. Breathing deeply, Harry told himself firmly to keep his temper under control and treat the Headmaster with respect. The man would raise valid points – he hoped – and Harry would meet them with equally valid counterarguments. This wasn't the willful decision of a child, but the rational decision of an adult, and Harry needed to convey that to the Headmaster.

That thought firmly in mind, Harry gave the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's tower the password and made his way up to Dumbledore's office.

OoOoO

It was an even more subdued Boy Who Lived who made his way back out of Dumbledore's office. The conversation had begun much as he'd expected – with Dumbledore asking whether he really planned on leaving them – but as soon as he'd laid out his reasons for withdrawing from Hogwarts Dumbledore had nodded and accepted his decision, throwing Harry off-balance. The Headmaster had then gone on to ask rather jovially what subjects Harry planned on continuing for his N.E.W.T.s and recommended good tutors he knew, pointing out that Harry would have to register at the Ministry as being homeschooled so that he could practice magic outside of Hogwarts. When they had parted, Dumbledore had said with a kind smile that if his guardians should choose not to sign the forms allowing him to withdraw from Hogwarts, he was of course welcome to continue his studies with them.

Harry frowned as he walked in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Maybe he was wrong about the Headmaster, and he really did want the best for him – but if he was right about Dumbledore, then the man had shown his support and encouragement to let Harry think he was on his side, but was certain that the Dursleys wouldn't sign the papers. Then Harry would end up still at Hogwarts, feeling resentment towards his relatives but gratitude towards Dumbledore for advising and supporting him.

Harry felt slightly sick. Which was the truth? Was Dumbledore really manipulative, or was Harry just seeing a scheme where there was none? What if the Headmaster really did want the best for Harry and he was doubting him at every turn? Or, what if the Headmaster really did want to manipulate Harry into something – then what? Harry supposed that if he took the tutors Dumbledore had recommended, those same wizards could keep Dumbledore informed on his progress and life while Harry felt goodwill towards the Headmaster for suggesting them, and if the Dursleys didn't let him withdraw from Hogwarts Dumbledore could keep an eye on him while having Harry's gratitude for supporting his decisions…

Gritting his teeth, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak from his bag and slipped it over himself, casting a silencing charm at his feet before dashing away to Valeriana's quarters. He needed advice.

OoOoO

A nearly inaudible knock on Valeriana's door and it was opened a moment later, the vampiress immediately recognizing his scent and stepping aside to let him slip inside.

"I don't understand," Harry exclaimed in frustration as soon as the door was closed, pulling the cloak off him and stuffing it into his bag with jerky movements. "Does he really just want the best for me, or is he trying to manipulate me? Does he really think of me like a kind of grandson, or does he just play the part well?" Running both hands through his hair, he paced around Valeriana's quarters like a caged tiger while she watched him silently from the door.

"He seems so supportive, encouraging me to get good tutors and focus on my N.E.W.T.s, telling me kindly that if the Dursleys refuse to sign the papers withdrawing me from Hogwarts I'm of course welcome to stay, but is it all an act? Does he just want to have tabs on me, either at Hogwarts or through tutors he recommended? Is he just trying to control me, or isn't that his goal – or doesn't he care, now that Voldemort's dead? Or is he so used to having me under his thumb that he'll try to keep his influence over me however possible? Am I reading too much into this?" Harry made a choked sound of frustration, tugging slightly at his hair, and heard Valeriana's tiny sigh.

"Come." A soft touch to his wrist, and he let himself be directed to the seating area, dropping down onto the couch and fiddling with his robes in agitation. Valeriana looked down at him silently for a long moment before turning and walking to her room. When she returned, she tossed a sword at him.

"Come," she beckoned, unsheathing Roerich's katana and assuming the basic stance, her gaze level on him.

For a moment time was still, the tableau frozen as Harry looked at the vampiress challenging him to a spar and she looked back at him levelly. Then Harry swallowed and rose, unsheathing the wakizashi and moving to assume the starting position across from her.

What followed was a spar much like the ones they'd had when preparing to face Voldemort, except that Valeriana was hitting harder, forcing Harry to respond with more power than he had previously. Harry grit his teeth as he tried to keep up with her force and speed, putting more effort into each strike and pressing forward in an attempt to push her the way she was pushing him, but she seemed to take that as a signal to ramp up the intensity even further. A very small part of Harry's mind was aware that he should be thankful she was sticking to the basic strike exercises she'd taught him, but he was too busy trying to keep up to be properly thankful.

"Attack," she said then, and he nearly protested that he was before his brain caught up. With a sharp cry he changed his stroke to a downwards slice that she blocked with enough force for his entire body to feel the aftershock. Trying to use the slight recoil to his advantage, Harry twisted his body and brought the short sword curving around to her side, again finding his sword easily blocked. Each time he tried an attack, it was easily parried, the force of his blows stopped by her unyielding strength.

Then, "Defend." Harry found himself panting from exertion as he parried her blows, just barely managing to deflect or avoid her sword as she brought it curving down on him. It was harrowing, trying to defend against her powerful strikes, but before he could become overwhelmed she ordered him to attack once more, and he launched immediately into the offensive. Strike, strike, strike – sharp cries and ringing blows filled the silence, Harry's heavy breaths the only sign of his exertion as he did his best to attack his sparring partner.

"Stop."

Harry immediately stepped back, but kept his sword up and ready to defend against a surprise attack, his shoulders heaving from the force of his breaths. Despite the short duration of the spar, Harry felt about ready to collapse to the floor from exhaustion, but Valeriana had made it quite clear in a previous session that to let down his guard was the worst thing he could do following a confrontation of any kind.

Then she straightened and bowed, Harry following suit, and took the wakizashi from him. "Sit," she told him, and he bowed again before moving to sink down onto the couch. He felt boneless, his arms stinging from the recoil of parried blows, and tried to get his breathing under control while Valeriana returned the swords to her bedroom and returned with a strange assortment of objects.

Kneeling on the floor on the other side of the low table, she began arranging the objects to her satisfaction.

"Tell me about the meeting."

And so Harry sat up and began telling her about the talk with Dumbledore, finding to his surprise that he could talk about it without the anger and frustration he'd felt before. It felt as though she'd drained those emotions out of him with their intense sparring. Now, only helpless confusion remained.

As he talked she tinkered with her things, appearing to warm water magically while whisking it with a sort of brush. She had an assortment of containers, and she used a strange wooden spoon to scoop green powder from a lacquered box into a ceramic bowl; after several seemingly ritualistic gestures she slowly poured hot water over the green powder, whisking the resulting mixture thoroughly. It was only when she carefully reached out to place the bowl on his side of the table that Harry realized he'd fallen silent, watching her and somehow internalizing the peace and tranquility of her movements.

"Drink," she said softly, and Harry realized that it was a beverage she had been preparing so thoroughly. Feeling as though words would be out of place, he swallowed his questions and bowed mutely, picking up the bowl and bringing it closer. He could feel Valeriana's eyes on him as he inhaled the scent, finding it to be fresh and vegetal. A type of tea? Blowing softly to see how hot it was, Harry took a tentative sip.

Rich, sweet flavor filled his mouth, and he closed his eyes to focus on the taste. He supposed this was green tea, prepared the Japanese way; it wouldn't surprise him, considering Valeriana's apparent liking for all things traditionally Japanese. It had an interesting taste; vegetal and surprisingly sweet, the aftertaste lingered far longer than he was used to with regular tea. When he opened his eyes again he found Valeriana watching him calmly, and something in his face must have satisfied her, for she nodded slightly and turned to prepare a second bowl for herself.

They were sipping their teas in silence when a knock sounded on the door.

Placing her bowl on the table, Valeriana moved back slightly and bowed deeply from her kneeling position before rising and moving to the door. When she opened it, Harry saw his friends and heard Valeriana's soft, "Come in," a moment later closing the door softly behind them. Ron looked about ready to burst into loud questions, but they seemed to stick in his throat when Harry calmly nodded at them from the couch. Valeriana returned to her kneeling position and bowed slightly to her bowl, proceeding to finish its contents and clean it to prepare another cup of tea.

Ron and Hermione took a seat on either side of Harry, and he gave them a slight smile before draining his bowl and returning it to the table, giving Valeriana a deep bow. Sensing the tranquil atmosphere, his friends remained silent as the vampiress went through the ritual once more, preparing first a cup for Hermione, then Ron, which they accepted and tasted with gravitas befitting the proceedings. Harry could tell that Ron didn't like the tea at all, but the other boy seemed to steel himself and drank the contents of the bowl in one go, exhaling slowly at the end and almost managing to hide a grimace at the taste. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be carefully tasting the tea, taking delicate sips and letting the liquid linger in her mouth.

Once both bowls had been returned to her, Valeriana cleaned her utensils with as much care as she had prepared the tea, her movements measured and the sense of ritual lingering in the air. Sliding back somewhat, she bowed deeply and stood, returning her things to her bedroom and leaving behind a deep silence.

Harry exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and savoring the sense of peace the tea ceremony had instilled in him. Opening his eyes, he found Valeriana taking a seat in the armchair to the left, in front of the window and closest to Ron.

"Now," she said softly. "Try again."

A slight smile on his lips, Harry made a third attempt at telling her about his discussion with Dumbledore. This time, no frustration or confusion flavored his voice; he simply recounted what had happened and who had said what, without speculating as to Dumbledore intentions or motivation. Valeriana listened with the same emotional stillness, and though Harry knew his friends were confused they, too, remained silent.

When he finished, Valeriana exhaled softly into the silence. "I see," she said, and Harry nodded slightly. "How do you intend to get your relatives to sign the papers?"

Harry sighed in turn, leaning back with his eyes closed. "I don't know," he said softly. "They won't sign if they know it's something I want." He had learned that when he'd asked them to sign his Hogsmeade permission slip. "I was thinking that it might be easier to have them sign emancipation forms instead, and then I can sign the Hogwarts papers myself. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to be rid of me," he said without rancor. Usually he'd be bitter about it, but right now he was filled with the peace and calm of the tea ceremony.

"It may be difficult to receive emancipation," Valeriana cautioned. "It is not so simple as signing a piece of parchment. The Ministry court is involved, and proof that you are better off on your own than under the guardianship of your relatives. It would most likely be an open case."

Silence as Harry assimilated that information. "Fine," he sighed. "So I need to get them to sign the Hogwarts papers. It might work if I told them that I'm done with magic and ready to pursue a 'proper' occupation, but then they'll probably think I want to stay with them again and refuse to sign… I thought that it's also possible that you show up there as a professor and inform them either that I flunked and will be sent to a less prestigious school or that I committed a crime and am in prison for it… Certainly they think little enough of me to believe either…"

Valeriana hesitated only slightly before saying, "I would be willing to attempt it."

Harry opened his eyes to give her a wry smile. "Thank you. I'll give you the papers once Professor McGonagall gets them to me."

The vampiress merely inclined her head in acknowledgement. Then a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth and she unexpectedly asked, "Did Miss Granger share the details of our last conversation?"

Hermione blushed bright red and Harry smiled. "Well, Ron and I don't know the _details_ , but she did share the answer to the question she'd left to ask you!" Ron had been openly dumbstruck at the revelation that Professor Natassa had been born around 1355; Harry had been less surprised, but had wondered when she had met Roerich and whether she'd actually been in Japan during the Edo period. After all, her sword was from that time period…

"I see," Valeriana replied, sounding amused. "Am I older than you had expected?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "After all, you do have an odachi from the Edo period, and you said that it stopped being popular sometime in the 1600s, so I had assumed you were at least a century old by then. Wrong?"

"Correct," she disagreed with an amused look. "I first went to Japan towards the end of the Muromachi period. It was then that I began to learn to use the katana, only later choosing to commission an odachi from the premier swordsmith of the time. As was the style at the time, he created it with a less curved blade than the Muromachi period blades." At Ron's confused expression she explained, "The Muromachi period lasted from 1336 to 1573, and was followed by the Azuchi-Momoyama and Edo periods. The Edo period began in 1603, and it was around then that I commissioned my odachi – the long sword you have seen me with before. In the Muromachi period, a curved blade was the preferred style, while in later periods the blade was created in a straighter style. Thus how Harry suspected I was born sometime prior to 1600."

"What led you to Japan, Professor?" Hermione asked curiously, and Valeriana tilted her head slightly.

"I walked from Italy to the Chinese coast."

Hermione blinked. "You… walked?"

Valeriana's lips twitched. "Running may be the more appropriate term. You might imagine that a vampire would cross a continent in less time than a human." Her head twitched in a little shrug. "From the coast of China I decided that I may as well visit Japan before moving on. I hadn't expected to find a reason to stay." Harry could see the pain in her gaze and realized that she must have met Roerich then – unless something else painful had happened there, which he supposed wasn't impossible.

Hermione seemed to recognize that she shouldn't ask what had kept the vampiress in Japan, instead asking, "What brought you to the UK, Professor?"

Valeriana sighed slightly. "Despite having been to all other countries in Europe, I had never been to any part of the United Kingdom. I had nothing better to do."

Ron didn't seem sure how to react to that, but Hermione nodded as though able to understand doing something simply because you've never done it before. Then she hesitated slightly. "Professor Natassa? Would you mind if I asked an entirely unrelated question?"

Harry wondered whether Hermione was at all unsettled by Valeriana's level gaze on her. Those deep blue, unblinking eyes could feel very intent when they were turned on you.

"What is it, Miss Granger?"

"Well…" Hermione hesitated again, then plowed on, "I thought vampires can't eat or drink anything but blood, but you were drinking tea when we came in…" she trailed off uncertainly, and Valeriana nodded.

"Well observed," she remarked. "Yes, I was drinking of the tea. Though it does not nourish us, we are able to drink water without any adverse effects, and tea is little more than flavored water, and thus safe for consumption. I am unsure whether matcha – green tea – tastes the same to humans as to vampires, but I personally enjoy the sweetness of the tea."

"I liked that, too," Harry agreed. "It was interesting how the tea tasted kind of like the smell of freshly mowed grass."

Valeriana hummed slightly. "Perhaps the taste is not too different, then. I have, however, heard that we vampires taste sweetness more strongly than humans."

"Maybe we should do some taste tests," Harry grinned, and the vampire's eyes softened slightly.

"That may prove educational," she agreed.

OoOoO

The week continued normally, though Harry returned to sparring with Valeriana each night, his friends occasionally joining them. Hermione had transfigured a branch to approximate a katana, and she'd busy herself with homework or a book while the other three sparred or did exercises. It was rather companionable, and Harry was glad to see his friends begin to relax around Valeriana and accept her as a sort of extension to their group.

Professor McGonagall kept him back after class one day to give him the papers he'd requested, and Harry promptly passed them on to Valeriana with a crooked smile of gratitude and apology. She had merely laid a hand on his shoulder and told him she'd deal with it; the following evening she handed him the signed papers, telling him tightly that he was being sent to a correctional facility for attacking a classmate.

"I'm sure the Dursleys were delighted to hear that," he said with a wry sigh, and realized from Valeriana's tight expression that they had probably reacted in just that way. Touching her arm, he said more quietly, "You saw how they were this summer, Valeriana. It doesn't really matter; I'll hopefully never have to deal with them again, so who cares what they think? It's alright, really, and thank you for getting them to sign these."

Valeriana exhaled slightly. "I have seen worse abuse," she said quietly, as though unsure herself why she felt the way she did. "But still…" Shaking her head, she pulled away slightly. "It reminded me too much of when my first owners had to sell me. They did so reluctantly, unwilling to let even a lowly slave into the care of Master Ionescu, but they couldn't afford to keep me…" Looking down at the papers in Harry's hand, she said quietly, "Your relatives were only too happy to sign something that would keep you out of their lives. That blood relations would be more willing to give away a child in their care than a family of peasants a slave…"

That night, Valeriana's face was more expressionless than it had been in a while, and while Ron and Hermione weren't quite as good at reading the vampire as Harry was, the chill surrounding her was nearly palpable, and both left early with rather weak excuses, leaving Harry alone with Valeriana.

"Don't," the vampiress whispered when Harry tentatively opened his mouth, and he shut it again with a slight nod, bringing his sword back up to fight position. They sparred silently, refraining even from the sharp cries that typically were part of a spar, and as Harry parried one of Valeriana's blows an idea occurred to him. Stepping to the side and slicing his blade sideways towards her, he disengaged with a jump backwards before she could block his blade, drawing his wand in mid-jump and casting a spell he had learned, but not truly made use of.

"Ah," Valeriana said appreciatively as a bright flash of light enveloped Harry's form, an intrigued glint entering her eyes. Lunging at him, she brought her longsword curving down towards him – and Harry moved, stepping forward and thrusting with his sword in a far faster movement than he could have pulled off before casting the spell to magically enhance his speed. His thrust was evaded with a slight shift of Valeriana's weight, but before her sword could touch him he jumped away, disengaging once more.

"Want to go somewhere with more space?" he asked, feeling the flush of adrenaline and the blood pounding through his veins. He didn't know his eyes were alight with passion and a challenge, but he did notice how Valeriana's eyes darkened with answering emotions as she agreed.

She lunged at him again, and Harry laughed as he jumped out of the way, his wand again coming into play as Harry cast a glamor on himself, the features of Hikaru hiding his true identity.

"Catch me if you can," he challenged, throwing open the door and leaping out into the halls of Hogwarts.

"Oh, I intend to, little one," he heard Valeriana's whisper, and then they were off in a dangerous chase through the ancient castle, blades glinting in the orange glow of torches along the walls and footsteps nearly inaudible as they ran with the speed of vampires.

"En garde," Harry heard a voice breathe, and reflexively jumped away as a long blade sliced down into the spot he had just vacated. Laughing with exhilaration, Harry bounded off a wall to get around a corner without losing speed and entered the area of the moving staircases.

"Inside or outside?" he called, and found his question answered by a voice next to his ear.

"Wherever we are less likely to be spotted," Valeriana breathed into his ear, and Harry gave her a burning look before slamming both feet on the ground and jumping straight up, swinging his way onto a higher staircase.

"Come on, then," he laughed challengingly, immediately setting out full-tilt in the direction of the Room of Requirement. He heard a slight laugh from below and grinned knowing he had surprised the vampiress, but added a burst of speed knowing that she wouldn't lag behind for long.

"Where are you leading me to, little one?" Valeriana asked from some distance behind him, and Harry could hear the dangerous thrill in her voice.

"A more suitable place for our spar, my Lady," Harry grinned, feeling an answering thrill race through him as he led the dangerous vampiress through the castle in a game of cat-and-mouse. He was well aware which he was – but oh, he planned on surprising this cat as much as he could.

Seventh floor, and Harry threw himself from the staircase to the passageway closest to the Room of Requirement, landing easily and tearing off again as he heard Valeriana's sword swish through the air where he had been shortly before. Grinning again, he counted his steps – bounds – to the stretch of wall he needed, then sprung around in a move he hoped would take Valeriana by surprise. He needed to stay in front of this stretch of wall until the door appeared, after all – and preferably while keeping his mind focused on what it was he wanted.

"This is what you had in mind?" the vampiress raised her eyebrows, thrusting her sword at him, and he sidestepped it with a grin. He hadn't realized just how heavily he was breathing until he stopped running.

"Hidden room," he supplied, darting around her and aiming a strike at her back that she jumped up to evade, her odachi curving around and being sidestepped again by the human. They continued sparring in this way, Harry circling the vampire until he grinned triumphantly and wrenched open the newly visible door, leaping inside and not even attempting to close the door behind him.

"I see," came an appreciative voice from behind him, and the door shut with a soft click. Harry turned and assumed the basic stance, seeing the appreciative look in Valeriana's expression and relaxing with a grin.

"The Room of Requirement," he introduced it, dropping down into a stretch. "It can be whatever we need it to be – does it meet your approval, my Lady?" he asked cheekily.

The corner of Valeriana's mouth twitched. "It does indeed, Hikaru-kun."

Harry had seen the room in more inviting states – the training room of the DA, with pillows and books, came to mind – but he didn't think it had ever been bigger than it was just then. Having assumed the shape of a round room with a vaulted ceiling, the room was completely bare, with floor, walls and ceiling made of the same grey stone as the rest of Hogwarts. It was vaguely reminiscent of the Great Hall in style, actually.

"Stretch thoroughly – then we will continue where we left off."

"Yes, my Lady," Harry acknowledged, his green eyes never leaving his teacher's form as he went through the stretches she had taught him. His heart was pounding from the effort of running from a vampire, a feat he knew he could never have accomplished had he not cast that spell earlier – and had she been serious about catching him. He didn't doubt that the game would have ended as soon as he had called it had she really wanted to catch him. Breathing heavily, he grinned. This would be fun.

OoOoO

The next morning he was surprised at breakfast by a note from Dumbledore to meet him in his office. Another talk now that Harry had the signed paperwork? He hadn't even handed it to McGonagall yet, though…

Swallowing down his curiosity with his toast, Harry focused on his food and tried to call up the serenity he'd felt when having tea with Valeriana the previous time Dumbledore had called him up to his office. It didn't quite work, but it did calm him somewhat, and it was a level-headed student who made his way up through Hogwarts.

"Ah, Harry," the old wizard welcomed the Gryffindor into his office with a smile. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Curious," Harry said with a slight smile, accepting the seat in front of the headmaster's desk.

"Understandable," Dumbledore agreed with a twinkle in his eye. "I confess, I called you here to satisfy my own curiosity." Looking down, the elderly wizard picked up a parchment and handed it to Harry, who realized what it was almost immediately.

"Ah," Harry smiled. "I didn't expect the goblins to be so quick about it! When I asked them about my inheritance and vaults, I also asked them to recommend a specialist to deal with the Basilisk carcass in the Chamber of Secrets, and it seems they move a lot faster than I had expected." With a pleased smile he set down the notice that a team of goblins would arrive on Saturday to remove a carcass from the bowels of Hogwarts.

Noticing the somewhat put-out expression on his headmaster's face he added, "I was going to mention it, of course, but it seems they got there first!"

"Unusually quick work, for goblins," the man nodded understandingly. "I'm glad you took the incentive, Harry."

"Well, I've been told it is mine, since I slayed it," Harry smiled crookedly at the wizard over the sturdy oak desk. "So it seems only right that I deal with it, no?"

"Of course," Dumbledore smiled genially, and Harry changed the conversation before the older wizard could suggest he give some of the proceeds to the school. He'd give some to the Weasleys, probably, but definitely not Hogwarts.

"Oh!" Harry said, turning to rummage around in his bag, "I have the paperwork, by the way! Here you go," he pulled out the roll of parchment and placed it on the desk before him. "It didn't take the Dursleys long to sign once they realized I wouldn't be going back to their house," he said with a hint of bitterness. Dumbledore leaned forward to pat his hand lightly.

"It does not do to distance ourselves overly much from family," he said sadly. "That said," he sighed and sat back, parchment in hand, "I cannot say my only remaining family member was unhappy to have me out of his life." His smile was sad, and Harry hesitated between asking and changing the topic before finally saying, "It happens," weakly.

Dumbledore just nodded and unfurled the parchment, sighing again after reading it.

"It is a shame to see such a bright mind as yours leave us, Harry, but I'm sure you'll do very well outside these hallowed halls. You do plan on staying in contact with your former classmates, I hope?"

"Of course," Harry nodded, smiling slightly. "I think I'll make Friday next week my last day, and was wondering if it would be okay for me to make a little speech at dinner that night? I'd like to publicly thank my teachers and clear up my reasons for leaving. Is that alright?" He didn't like to speak publicly or draw attention to himself, but Valeriana had said pointedly that unless he made a statement whatever others said would be the popular opinion on his leaving. So he would be preparing a speech explaining his reasons for leaving, thanking certain people, and would send it to the Daily Prophet and Quibbler for publishing. Harry wanted to get out of the spotlight, but he wanted it on his terms.

"What a wonderful idea, my boy!" Dumbledore beamed. "I hadn't thought you would be comfortable speaking to the entire school," he said with a hint of inquiry, and Harry grinned sheepishly.

"Not really," he admitted, "but…" Harry shrugged. "Hermione seemed to think I should. Guess it's not too often a student leaves Hogwarts in the middle of the year, much less one who's something of a celebrity." He smiled depreciatingly, and Dumbledore smiled back kindly.

"Indeed, Miss Granger isn't incorrect. Has she had any other advice for you?"

Harry snorted. "Hermione, not have advice for someone? Have you met her?" Dumbledore twinkled at him, and Harry suddenly remembered a piece of advice Hermione had given him. "What time is it?" Harry asked, looking around for a clock. "I just remembered that she told me not to be late for class."

The older wizard laughed at that and sent him on his way with a reminder to meet the goblins with him that Saturday. Harry made sure to keep a smile on his face all the way to the classroom, dropping it only when he reached his friends. "Dumbledore wanted to know about the goblins coming to deal with the Basilisk," he murmured. "It seems they sent him a notice that they would come on Saturday, and he wants to meet them with me. Do you want to come, too?"

Both immediately agreed, wanting to see the chamber and the beast he had dealt with on his own years before. "You might want to have Valeriana come, too," Hermione whispered as they walked into the Charms classroom. "Who knows how the goblins will behave without her around, right?"

Harry hummed in agreement, already wondering how to get Valeriana involved without getting Dumbledore suspicious. After all, as far as the headmaster knew, they hadn't had any contact since the side-effects of him drinking her blood "wore off". Maybe she could just show up and say that she'd heard mention of a Basilisk in the school, and that it was rare to have the chance to see such a great creature? He didn't think Dumbledore would – well, could – turn her away.

Deciding to discuss it with her that evening, Harry slid into his seat and placed his wand on the table in front of him in preparation for the lesson.

OoOoO

"Headmaster," the vampiress greeted as she walked down the last few steps to the Entrance Hall. "Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, Mister Potter," she nodded to each of them in turn. "I heard there is a Basilisk to be taken apart today?"

Harry tried to look surprised. "Well, yes," he confirmed, shooting his friends a questioning glance. They both shook their heads slightly, letting him (and the headmaster) know that they hadn't mentioned it to the professor.

Valeriana hummed slightly, her blue eyes unblinking. "I trust you would not mind if I accompanied you; it is not often that one has the opportunity to see such a legendary creature."

"No, of course not," Harry hastily agreed. Looking at Dumbledore, he said, "Actually, Professor Natassa has a point – should we invite the other professors, at least? Basilisks _are_ pretty rare…"

"I fear it may cause them undue concern to see what threatened our school so recently," the headmaster demurred, and the look Valeriana shot him was sharp.

"They are not children to be protected from a threat that no longer exists," she said blandly, her disapproval audible only to Harry – though Hermione shifted slightly as though picking up that tone in her comment. "Now that the slayer of the Basilisk has extended the invitation, it is for the other professors to choose whether to accompany us." Turning to Harry, she nodded slightly. "If you'll excuse me, I will tender the invitation to my colleagues." She only waited for his surprised nod before turning and leaving, two swift leaps taking her out of their sight.

Ron blew out a breath, and Hermione smiled slightly. Dumbledore blinked once at the empty space the vampire had occupied before turning his bemused look on each teenager in turn. "I have learned that Professor Natassa is a force to be reckoned with," he commented lightly, and with a chuckle from the students they settled back to wait for the professors and goblins to arrive.

It didn't take long before the first professors started trickling down from the upper layers of Hogwarts, Valeriana passing by briefly on her way to the lower levels, where Professors Sprout and Snape resided. A few minutes later Valeriana rejoined them, and they could see that she had her odachi strapped to her back.

"Just in case," she said mildly, volunteering no further information about the long sword she carried. Harry could see on several professors' faces that they were wondering if she really was the vampire who helped slay Voldemort, and when Snape joined the group he stood against the wall, as far away from the vampiress as the room allowed.

"Um – welcome," Harry said hesitantly when it seemed all the professors who would come were together. "I'm sure Professor Natassa mentioned, but there's a team of goblins arriving soon to take apart the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Apparently the carcass belongs to me, since I killed it in my second year, and Professor Natassa pointed out that you might like to see it while it's still whole, since Basilisks are pretty rare. The goblins should be here in a minute, and you're very welcome to join us," he smiled at Professor Flitwick, who was bouncing slightly on his toes.

"Oh, yes!" the diminutive professor squeaked. "Is Rubeus – Professor Hagrid – not joining us? I'm sure he would enjoy seeing a Basilisk with his own two eyes!"

Harry hesitated before saying, "Well, I think he might be too big to get into the chamber… The entrance isn't very big, you see…" A few of the professors chuckled at that, and he grinned crookedly. "We'll just have to take some photos for him."

"I brought my camera," Sprout beamed, she and Flitwick acting more like children on a school trip than professors. The few passing students gave the group odd looks.

The goblins arrived then – several minutes late – and the three Gryffindors were the only humans unsurprised when they greeted Valeriana before anyone else.

"Mister Potter," the spokesperson turned to him next, ignoring the headmaster beside him. "I have brought our premier harvesters with me for today's task. You are content with the prices I suggested?"

"I thought your suggestions more than fair, Mister Lorzh," Harry replied politely. He had no idea when it came to pricing, of course, but Valeriana had taken one look at the rate suggested and raised her eyebrows in visible surprise. "It seems they are more afraid of you than I had thought," she'd said – all the explanation Harry had needed to conclude that the rate the goblin had suggested was far better than he could have expected.

"Excellent," the goblin nodded. "If you would lead the way..?"

"Of course," Harry agreed, promptly gesturing for the group to follow him and leading the way to the girls' lavatory on the first floor. Since he was leading, he couldn't see the way the goblins were looking around in interest – after all, full goblins never set foot inside the wizarding school – but he did see the way all passing students stopped to gape at the strange procession.

Leading the way into the washroom and ignoring the doubtful comments coming from the professors following him, Harry walked right up to where he knew the entrance to be and hissed at the engraved snake. The murmurs died down quickly when the sink rumbled and opened to reveal a gaping hole.

"Not very impressive, I'm afraid," Harry commented, not noticing the disbelief on several professors' faces, "but we can reach the chamber by sliding down this pipe. It's rather large, but not quite big enough to fit Hagrid," he turned to grin at his Charms professor. Faltering slightly at the odd variety of expressions on the faces of his companions, he turned back to the opening and clambered in. "I'll see you at the bottom," he said before pushing off and disappearing into the black.

"If you'll excuse me," Valeriana said before one of the goblins could go next, stepping out from among the group and launching herself into the pipe. Ron and Hermione stepped up at the same time, and for some reason the goblins let them go first, but the remaining professors were rather offended when the goblins went next without giving Dumbledore the chance to precede them.

It didn't take long before they were all clustered down the bottom, the Golden Trio and Valeriana leading the way when they set out again, Dumbledore isolated from the leaders by the goblins.

There were some shocked murmurs when they passed by the shed skin, but everyone heard the goblin spokesperson say to Harry that they would collect it on the way back. Far more shocking for everyone was when they stepped into the Chamber itself, Harry striding on without pausing at the sight of the humongous Basilisk corpse while all the other humans faltered.

"You killed _that_?" Hermione whispered, clutching at Harry's sleeve. He blinked down at her in surprise.

"Well, yeah," he said, clearly nonplussed. "I mean, it was trying to kill me, you know?"

"Mate," Ron said in a choked voice, "I didn't realize just how HUGE it was! I mean, I saw the skin last time and knew it would be a big bugger, but this… I can't believe Ginny's still alive," he said faintly, and Harry stopped walking and turned to grab Ron's shoulder.

"Ron, you would've been right down here with me if that git Lockhart hadn't collapsed the corridor," Harry said intently. "Don't worry about it. It happened years ago, Ginny's fine, the Basilisk's dead, and we're going to harvest it and split the money between us. Really, don't worry about it."

"Wait," Ron grabbed Harry when he went to turn away again, "what do you mean, we'll split it? You're the one who killed the ruddy beast!"

Harry blinked in honest surprise. "Well, Hermione figured out what it was, and we both came to rescue Ginny together – of course we're splitting the money! Just because I rammed a sword in its mouth doesn't mean I should be the only one to get the reward!"

"But you're the only one who almost died of it!" Hermione protested, a shrill edge to her voice, and Harry protested that she was wrong.

"We all almost died that year! You were petrified for _months_ because you realized what it was, Hermione! Ron nearly got crushed by the roof when Lockhart caved in the corridor! I just spent a while running away from a huge snake while Fawkes ripped out its eyes and then jabbed a sword in its mouth!"

"It bit you!" Hermione shrieked, all three of them entirely oblivious to the spectators to their little drama. "A full-grown Basilisk _bit_ you, Harry, and you nearly died of the poison! Did you know that Basilisk poison is the most poisonous thing in the world? A bit of stone doesn't compare!"

Harry took a slight step back, realizing suddenly that Hermione had tears in her eyes and looked very close to breaking down in hysterics.

"Hey," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her in a hug and shifting uncomfortably at the way she immediately burst into tears, "It's okay – I survived, and the Basilisk is the one lying dead here. Just accept that I couldn't have done it without you two and that I want to share the money with you, please? It's really not worth fighting about, and you know I have enough money without adding this to it." He felt Ron's warm hand come back down on his shoulder and looked up at the redhead. "It might be nice to give Ginny some, too – it can't have been nice to be possessed by Voldemort," he grimaced, an expression Ron echoed, but Hermione just cried harder at that. The two boys looked at the top of her bushy head in alarm.

"Compose yourself, Miss Granger," a soft voice intruded, and Valeriana reached out to gently separate Hermione from Harry. "Look – he is fine, alive and stronger than ever. You are discomforting him – as most men, he is helpless when faced with a woman's tears. Come, let us step aside for a moment…" With that, the vampiress gently guided Hermione away from the group, murmuring to her as Ron and Harry looked after them in astonishment.

"It seems she is more capable of human feeling than I had thought," they heard someone mutter, and Harry spun around angrily to glare at the group of professors, and Professor McGonagall in particular.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he bit out, glaring at the shocked woman for another moment before stalking over to the group of goblins surrounding the carcass – they, at least, hadn't stood there watching their private conversation with unmasked curiosity!

"This is a very fine beast, Mister Potter," the lead goblin said appreciatively as he approached. "Not a single mar on it, and the largest example killed in centuries – you will make a very large profit off this. Every part can be sold, from the skin to the intestines, and you will be pleased to hear that the eyes, the only visible injury, are worth little anyway. It is surprising how well-preserved it is, even after a few years, but I am sure there are spells placed on the chamber that ensures for it." He led the young wizard around the carcass, pointing out particularly valuable parts and making an estimation of how much Harry could expect from the beast in total. The number boggled the mind.

"Wow," Harry breathed, stunned. Valeriana had explained just how valuable Basilisk parts were, but he somehow hadn't been able to connect that to himself. Now it was really sinking in just how much money he'd get from this, and he shook his head in an attempt to snap out of his awe. "How long do you think it will take your team to deal with the whole Basilisk?"

"The beast is larger than I had anticipated," the goblin said with no little satisfaction, "but my five companions are highly skilled. It should be done by tomorrow evening."

Harry blinked – the first estimation had been that it would only take them Saturday to deal with the entire Basilisk, and he wondered just how small the goblin had thought Slytherin's Monster would be. "Will the team be leaving for the night, then?"

"No, Mister Potter," Lorzh disagreed respectfully. "I will be leaving to get the things needed to remain here for the night, including food for our stay. It would be much appreciated if you could leave the entrance open until our departure tomorrow evening."

"Of course," Harry agreed, casting a look around the cavernous chamber as he thought that he wouldn't want to spend the night there. "Can I get you anything? Some tea, at least?"

"There is no need, Mister Potter, but you have our gratitude for the offer." The goblin hesitated, then said in a low tone, "However, it would be much appreciated if the Lady were to leave the chamber for the duration of our stay. Her presence is… disquieting."

Harry's gaze darted to the vampiress standing off to the side with an impassive expression, silently watching the goblins climbing around on the carcass. "Alright," the teenager agreed, a tender smile curving his lips. "I'll keep her out of your hair, Mister Lorzh." He didn't know how much it unsettled the goblin to hear a wizard speak so tenderly of a vampire.

OoOoO

"I think you disconcerted the goblin when you told him you'd keep me out of his hair," Valeriana remarked later with a glint in her eye. Harry grinned up at her as they left the chamber along with the other humans, unsurprised that she had overheard their conversation. Her hearing was far better than even his, after all.

"I've been meaning to ask, actually – are goblins afraid of vampires because of something that happened in the past, or because of the instinctual reaction of prey to a hunter?"

Valeriana's left eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. "Well phrased. It is the latter, and goblins have always been careful not to offer insult, so there have been only minor incidents between our kinds. That is not to say that goblins are helpless – they have killed far more vampires than humans, in fact, through trickery or use of special artifacts. As I have mentioned before, vampires have reason to believe that goblins are capable of destroying a vampire's soul." Her level look reminded him of the time she had told him about the ways to kill a vampire, back at Privet Drive, and Harry nodded.

"What about werewolves? Do they and vampires interact at all, or do you avoid contact?"

To his surprise, Valeriana's lip curled to reveal a sharp fang. "Werewolves," she said darkly. "With very few exceptions, they are rabid animals that need to be put down. You nearly died by one, I believe?" Her look was deep, anger and disgust swimming in her gaze. Harry swallowed.

"Well, I wasn't really in danger, since Sirius was there to deal with Professor Lupin; he'd forgotten to take his Wolfsbane Potion that night, you see," he said slightly apologetically. "It was my fault, really, since he saw that I was with Sirius, who was still thought a murderer at the time, and he rushed down to help me… Professor Lupin was one of my dad's best friends – the last one left now, actually," he swallowed away, blinking away unexpected tears. "He was the DADA teacher for a year; I think you'd like him," Harry smiled tentatively, unsure of Valeriana's reaction. Her expression was very blank.

After a short pause she huffed out a breath. "You make very interesting friends, young Harry. I would be honored to meet a werewolf you think so highly of." Harry couldn't help but beam in surprised relief, already imagining the two professors discussing things over a cup of tea. He wondered how Remus was doing.

"I am also intrigued that the headmaster would let two such dangerous creatures teach at a wizarding school. Vampires and werewolves are categorized as Dark creatures for a reason, after all." Her gaze was sharp, and Harry had the feeling that she was more critical than impressed.

"Remus was the best DADA teacher we've ever had!" Harry defended his former professor in a low, but passionate voice. "The other professors were more dangerous," he shivered slightly remembering the detentions he served under Umbridge and knew that Valeriana didn't miss his shiver.

"That is even more disquieting," Valeriana said so quietly that even Harry could barely catch it. "One wonders how seriously he takes his responsibility of caring for his charges when the least dangerous teachers are the ones who aren't even human."

Harry shrugged weakly, unable to disagree. He was beginning to wonder, himself, just how good a person Dumbledore was.

"For now, however," Valeriana remarked more loudly after a pause, "I believe we need to figure out how to get out of here."

"Er…" Harry stopped in front of the gaping hole that was the bottom of the pipe leading down from the lavatory. "Hold on, let me see if there's a snake engraving anywhere…"

Under the gazes of the others Harry carefully looked all around the hole, searching for a small snake in the stone wall but not finding any. "I guess anyone going back up was expected to have a Basilisk with them," he shrugged, looking first at his friends, then over at the professors. With a mischievous grin to Professor Flitwick he suggested, "Wingardium Leviosa all the way up?"

The diminutive professor laughed and declared that idea delightful, but impractical. Valeriana twitched her head in what Harry knew was a shrug and suggested Professor McGonagall transfigure a rope ladder from something.

"It would be simple for me to run up the pipe, and from there I could extend the ladder down the pipe. Unless… Miss Granger, did you not recently search for a spell that might accelerate your movements? If you know it, that may serve."

Hermione perked up at that, clearly happier at the thought of running up the pipe than climbing up an unstable ladder. "I did – the Acceleratur Motus spell!" Pulling out her wand, Hermione immediately cast it at herself, briefly glowing blue. "I taught it to Ron and Harry, too, but I don't know if it'll be enough to get up here," she looked dubiously up the tube. Valeriana's head twitched again.

"Attempt it, and we will see," she said drily. "Perhaps Mister Weasley would be willing to make the attempt, as if he succeeds you may need to teach the spell to those professors who do not know the spell." Hermione looked horrified at the thought of teaching her professors something, but Professor Flitwick seemed eager to learn this spell and Ron was already climbing into the pipe.

"It might be advisable to take a running start," Valeriana commented with audible amusement, and Ron blushed but clambered back out, jogging to the other end of the corridor and taking a deep breath before running full-tilt at the pipe, leaping into the opening and sprinting up, his echoing footsteps audible to those below. A few seconds later the footsteps stopped and Ron called down triumphantly, "Made it!"

"Cool," Harry grinned, drawing his own wand and casting a beam of light at himself before going to the same spot Ron had started from. "See you up the top!" With that he took off, feeling the exhilaration he now always felt when running at full speed. It seemed so easy to run up the pipe, even at a steep part, and far too quickly he jumped out the other end, finding more than just Ron there.

"Hi, Myrtle," he greeted the ghost, choosing to ignore all the students crowded around gaping at the opening in the girls' lavatory. "How's it going?"

The ghost looked at him moodily, and Harry was guiltily thankful when Professor Sinistra leaped out of the pipe and right through Myrtle, making the ghost disappear into her cubicle with a theatrical sob.

"Careful, Professor," Harry said, helping his astronomy teacher up from the floor. They had only just gotten out of the way when Professor Hooch hopped out of the pipe, landing squarely on her feet.

"Out of the way, out of the way," she ordered the milling students curtly. "Professors coming through."

After that, all the others came up one by one, most leaving after a brief thank you to Harry for inviting them along, until Hermione and Valeriana came up last.

"How will the goblins get back up?" Harry asked the vampiress, and she shrugged minutely.

"They did not appear to have any problem scuttling around on the scales of a Basilisk; I doubt a pipe will cause them any problems." Clearly aware of their audience, Valeriana nodded to him. "That was most educational, Mister Potter. I thank you for the invitation."

"You're very welcome, Professor," Harry smiled, and with another brief nod Valeriana left, the students parting immediately to let her pass. Looking at his friends, Harry shrugged. "Let's go write that Potions essay, I suppose?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said in exasperation as they followed Dumbledore out of the lavatory, the three of them ignoring their fellow students, "you haven't done it yet?"

"Well, I _started_ it," Harry defended himself, the trio setting back into their regular bickering as protection from the other students. They didn't doubt they'd be inundated with questions otherwise, and behind them they heard Dumbledore caution the students not to go down the pipe.

"Like that'll keep them out," Ron muttered, and Hermione sighed in agreement.

OoOoO

The next few days passed normally, with classes and homework that Hermione cajoled Harry into doing despite knowing he wouldn't be handing it in, and the three friends wandered the castle, reminiscing the past years.

Their wanderings started at the girls' bathroom they first became friends in, and Hermione confessed that she'd never used it again after that Halloween; from there they went all over the castle and grounds, remembering Polyjuice Potion and Yule Ball, Triwizard Tournament and Educational Decrees, a swamp Professor Flitwick had removed easily after Umbridge left Hogwarts, and a dragon in a thatch-roof hut. There were fond memories, but so many that involved dangerous and even life-threatening situations not only for Harry, but also for the others, and they found themselves in a rather somber mood realizing just how much danger their previous school years held.

"It's mad," Ron said faintly. "I didn't even really realize – I mean, we spent so much time in class and doing homework and all that, so whenever something happened we just dealt with it and that was it – but now, looking back… Seriously, how did we survive?" He was pale, his freckles standing out starkly against his white skin as he turned a pleading look on them. Harry's lips tightened. He had realized long ago just how much danger he got into all the time.

"Well…" Hermione swallowed hard. "We had a lot of luck, I suppose," she said weakly. It was a subdued trio that returned to Gryffindor Tower that evening.

OoOoO

"Fellow students, dear teachers, ghosts, and caretakers," Harry nodded to Filch from where he stood at the head of the hall. "As you may have heard, today was my last day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." A low buzzing filled the hall briefly, all eyes still on him as most of the students found out that the rumors were true. Harry wondered who had leaked the information – he had only told his friends in the DA, and they weren't the types to gossip about him. Deciding it was probably one of the teachers, but that it didn't really matter anyway, he began his leaving speech.

"I started entertaining the thought of leaving this school when I heard that Voldemort was dead, and soon decided that I would prefer to engage private tutors rather than stay. This school is wonderful, but I think we can all agree that I've never enjoyed a regular school experience, and I'd really like some peace and quiet for a while – and some privacy. I'll be leaving to study for my N.E.W.T.s on my own, with help from private tutors, and while I don't plan on completely disappearing I'll be focusing on my studies." Smiling, he turned slightly to look at the teachers at the head table. "I do want to thank the professors for my education so far, though – I've learned so much here, and I think that's something that really needs to be acknowledged personally." With that he went down the line of professors, shaking each person's hand and speaking a few words of thanks to each. Halfway down he said a few sincere words to Professor Dumbledore before moving on to Professor McGonagall, thanking her as both Transfiguration teacher and Head of House. The last in line was Snape, and Harry just as readily gave him his hand – which the man accepted warily – and gave him just as sincere thanks as he had the other teachers. The two would never like each other, but Harry refused to be petty and skip over the man, no matter how much misery the greasy professor had given him over the years.

Moving back to the podium, Harry addressed his fellow students once more.

"I also want to thank all of you for being part of my school experience in one way or another, whether as friends, Quidditch mates, study partners," everyone knew he meant the DA with that, "House mates, or even just members of the same institution. I hope you all enjoy the rest of the year!" It felt like a rather weak finish, but it got him the round of applause he wanted and Harry stepped away from the podium with a smile and a bow. Back at Gryffindor table he got some good-natured ribbing and yelled questions, but everyone quieted down when Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"As you all just heard, today we are losing one of our own. However, despite the sadness of parting, there is the joy of parting on such a high note. A great wrong has been righted in the world, and it leaves new possibilities open – possibilities that one of our Gryffindors, true to his nature, is ready to explore with all the courage and energy he has turned on all his adventures thus far. Please join me in wishing Mister Potter all the best in his future exploits!"

The round of applause that got was far more enthusiastic from the Gryffindor table than Harry's speech had gotten, but as he stood and waved his thanks he noticed that the Slytherins, who had at least clapped politely at the end of his speech, sat in disgusted silence after Dumbledore's speech. Harry wondered whether it was because of Dumbledore's clear emphasis on his house affiliation, but decided he didn't really care. Taking his seat, he grinned crookedly at Ron and bumped Hermione with his shoulder, determined to enjoy his last meal at Hogwarts.

OoOoO

After that, things were pretty chaotic. In hindsight, Harry knew he should have expected to be mobbed on his way out, but he had – naively, really – assumed that his speech would buy him some leeway. As he tried to push his way through the throng of students between him and the main doors, Harry grimly repeated to himself that this was the last time he'd be doing this.

"Mister Potter," a level voice suddenly cut through the students' clamors, and everyone fell deathly still.

Abruptly thankful for the other students' uncertainty around the History professor, Harry turned in the direction Valeriana's voice had come from. He couldn't see her through the crowd of taller students.

"Yes, Professor Natassa?"

"How are you leaving Hogwarts, Mister Potter?"

Harry blinked, then frowned. "By portkey, ma'am." Why was she asking, when she already knew that?

"A timed one, I presume?"

Suddenly Harry understood, and he tried not to grin. "Yes, ma'am."

"Then I suggest you other students let Mister Potter pass. We wouldn't wish for him to miss his portkey." Her tone was still perfectly level, but some of the students near Harry blanched and backed away immediately. Harry couldn't help his grin, then.

"Thanks, professor," he called as the students cleared a path for him. "I hope you have a good year at Hogwarts!"

"Thank you, Mister Potter. All the best for the future."

Harry just grinned and strode away, grateful again for the remarkable person he now had in his life.

OoOoO

Months later, Harry hefted his rucksack more securely onto his shoulder and grinned up at the same person.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she concurred, and they stepped out of the house together, ready to see the world together.

OoOoO

A/N: To be continued...!


	2. The Travels Begin

Arms wrapped around her shorter companion, Valeriana tipped her head back and enjoyed the sensation of wind in her hair. The taste of salt water lingered on her tongue, a fine spray of seawater having long wet her face and clothes as they stood at the prow of the ship, feeling the motion of it beneath them.

One pale hand held on to the cold railing; the other was pressed to Harry's chest, feeling his heartbeat through the damp fabric of his shirt, and Valeriana was content to share this sight with him: That of the ocean spread before them, sea spray in the air and Japan in the distance. She had first arrived to the country the same way, centuries before, and though the ship was very different the view was much the same, rousing in her nostalgic feelings as well as new hopes.

So much had changed since that night in Little Whinging, and some days the vampiress couldn't believe that this young, vibrant man would choose to remain by her side. She had remained with him over the last few months as he'd prepared for his Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests – and really, what foolish person had come up with that name? – but though they were now rather accustomed to each other there was still that tingle of a relationship in its beginning stages.

Valeriana's lips twitched. Her little companion was nearly 17, now, and still so wonderfully easy to tease. She didn't think she could ever grow disenchanted with his blushes.

Licking her lips, she pulled Harry more tightly to her and nosed at the tender skin behind his ear, their black hair tangling in the strong wind. She felt his sharp inhale and ran her tongue down his neck, tracing a slick path along his jumping tendon before allowing her teeth to graze his skin. His breath hitched and she hid a smile. He was just too delightful for words.

A gentle kiss to the side of his neck; then she sank her teeth into his warmth, tasting first the salt water on his skin, then the rush of his blood, so sweet and rich, nearly pulsing with the strength of his magic. Harry's breath stuttered and he leaned back into her, head lolling slightly, and Valeriana's hold tightened further at his easy surrender of control. He indulged, even welcomed her needs, the only human she'd ever met who thought that a vampire feeding was as natural as a human eating, and though he was still so easily flustered when it came to sexual matters he stood here in broad daylight with a vampire sucking his blood as though it was a perfectly natural occurrence.

And, strangely, it was. In the months prior to his examinations, she had only drunk from others two or three times – just when she'd needed the thrill of the hunt, when she'd followed the instinctive call of the hunter within, when she'd run long and hard before falling on some human prey and holding down their struggling forms to sink her fangs into their sweet lifeblood-

A light squeeze to her hand, and Valeriana immediately withdrew, the last gulp of hot blood sliding down her throat. Licking the puncture marks on Harry's neck and shivering at the sweet aftertaste, she latched onto the soft skin again and sucked as a human might, leaving the hickey that any observers would expect if she were a regular human lover sucking at her boyfriend's neck.

"There is a thrill in drinking from you in public," she murmured into Harry's ear, and he craned his head to smile at her with a light in his eyes.

"There is, isn't there," he agreed, then leaned up to kiss her. Strangely, he never seemed to mind the taste of his blood on her lips or tongue, and Valeriana moved her hand up to tangle it in his unruly hair, deepening the kiss with a contented sigh. The taste of Harry, his warmth in her arms, the wind and spray and knowing that neither of them cared if someone was watching…

With a deft movement she spun him around, bringing their fronts together and deepening the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her neck, pressing close to her until she felt like an extension of him, the two of them as close as two people could be. While clothed, at any rate.

Pressed up against him, she could easily feel his stirring interest – feel her own – and felt a brief pang of irritation that he wasn't yet of age. She didn't know why it bothered her – certainly when she had been his age such restrictions hadn't existed – but some part of her balked at the idea of taking him before he reached his majority. She couldn't care less what anyone else thought, and didn't doubt that anyone wanting to think ill of her would assume she had raped him long ago, but still she didn't want to take that final step before she could honestly call him an adult. He was so much younger than her that he would continue to seem a child next to her for quite some time, but she didn't want him to still be a child in the eyes of his society when she first spent the night with him in that way.

Stifling a sigh, Valeriana eased out of the kiss, grateful that Harry only followed her movement for a moment before pulling back himself, breath heavy and eyes dilated with lust. His sigh wasn't stifled.

"Just five more days," he said to himself, letting his head fall to her shoulder. She tangled a hand in his hair, feeling the tension in his body and the way he shivered in the wind.

"Let us head inside," she murmured. "You should dry off."

"So should you," he retorted, running his hand along her wet shoulder, and something within her jumped at the touch.

"I am not capable of catching a cold," her head twitched in that aborted shrugging motion she couldn't get rid of, and she pulled away until Harry's head came up. Green eyes caught and held hers.

"You are in an… acceptable state to walk back to our cabin?"

Ah, and there was the blush she loved so much, color flooding to the British youth's face.

"I'll manage," he mumbled, shifting awkwardly and darting a look around.

"Was anyone watching?" Valeriana cocked her head, and couldn't prevent a small twitch of her lips when Harry colored even further.

"Not that I can see," he said, already shifting to head back to their cabin, and Valeriana couldn't resist darting in to capture his lips in a last brief kiss.

"Lead the way," she said, stepping back and following her companion with wicked amusement humming through her. He was just too easy to tease. She wondered if he'd always retain that innocence or whether someday he would tease her in turn. She couldn't decide which prospect appealed to her more.

OoOoO

"Kyoto," Valeriana breathed, a sincere smile on her face as she took in the sight of her longtime home. Inhaling deeply, she caught the scent of the Japanese city, so different from when she last was here but still so similar as well. The smell of the harbor hadn't changed much, and while everything looked different there was still the underlying sense of the old Kyoto she had known.

Tearing her eyes from the view, she looked over at her companion to see him taking in the sight with sparkling eyes.

"So," he grinned and turned to her, "where to first?"

OoOoO

It was astounding, how much a city could change and yet retain its identity. The passing centuries had wreaked great changes on the country's old capital, but it had been built to last the ages, and in that it had not failed. The addition of modern lights, signs and other contraptions were glaring, but traditional sites had changed very little and Valeriana took comfort in that. She felt positively ancient when turning a familiar corner brought not the quaint restaurant she'd unthinkingly expected but an offensively vivid gaming shop, lights flashing in her face and multicolored writing jumping out at her; but going into the shop with an intrigued young wizard was a memorable experience that brought surprising pleasure, and she reluctantly conceded that her life had changed as much as the city in the intervening centuries, and that it would have been worse to return to find everything unaltered.

With that realization her attitude towards the trip evolved into something more accepting and open than before, Valeriana taking in this new Kyoto with new eyes and a curiosity to match Harry's, for now she realized that for all that it had once been her home, she knew the city barely more than her young companion. Feudal Japan was a far cry from this brave new world where individuality had found bright outlets – and, to her hidden dismay, a great change in the language itself. Suddenly her speech was antiquated, stuffy and formal, though she grudgingly admitted that Japanese hadn't changed as much as many other languages and that she could count herself fortunate that the basic rules hadn't changed. Slang was still a frustrating thing to be confronted with, and Valeriana discovered a renewed appreciation for book stores when she found a dictionary of contemporary slang in one.

Old ceremony, however, remained unchanged, and Harry's quiet awe at participating in a proper tea ceremony soothed something within her. Roerich had never had the patience for such things, but to share with her partner a practice that filled her with such calm and contentment felt wonderful.

She had never realized, however, how kneeling for such a long time might affect untrained human muscles.

"My legs..!" Harry whimpered, kneading his stiff muscles, and Valeriana's gaze softened.

"You did not have to kneel for the entirety of the ceremony," she crouched down to work on his other leg. "It is not expected of foreigners."

"I wanted to do it properly," Harry said with an obstinate set to his jaw.

Valeriana hummed quietly. "The Teishu was impressed," she commented, and Harry looked up in surprise.

"Really?"

She simply nodded, and a smile dawned on his face.

"Then it was worth it."

He still limped slightly when they left the building, and Valeriana was careful to avoid kneeling endeavors the next day.

However, her plans were utterly messed up just a few days later, as they enjoyed the charms of traditional streets, old houses carefully maintained with glossy wooden fronts and grey tile roofs. She realized, in retrospect, that she should have expected her past to catch up with her. As it was, she could consider it fortunate that it had taken an entire week.

"Look what we have here," a drawling voice stopped them in a side street of the old town. "Missed your old haunts, Sakura?"

Harry looked at her curiously, unable to understand the Japanese taunt, and Valeriana hesitated only briefly before turning to face the man crouched on a nearby roof. "Jirō," she said noncommittally. The long-haired Japanese man eyed her, barely sparing Harry a glance.

"Your next meal?"

"My companion."

The vampire's eyes narrowed at that. "Chimamire no Sakura, with a human companion?" Valeriana just returned his gaze levelly, and the man's lips tightened. "He is a pretty enough human, I suppose," he said, not taking his eyes off Valeriana, "but hardly pretty enough to keep for his looks. Is it the blood? Is he that delicious that you would take him everywhere with you?"

Still Valeriana's expression remained inscrutable, and the man snorted in disgust.

"Well, you haven't gotten any more loquacious, have you. Tell me, boy, does she keep you along so that you can speak for her?"

Harry remained silent, aware that he was being spoken to but unable to understand the question, and Valeriana's lips twitched. The lack of an answer was answer enough.

"Trained him well, haven't you?" the man commented sarcastically, and Valeriana exhaled slightly in her understated sigh.

"Do you want me to silence him, my Lady?" Harry immediately asked, clearly picking up on her irritation, and she was sure he already had his wand in hand.

"Tempting," Valeriana said drily, and the man gaped briefly before whooping with laughter.

"You think that child could silence me? Oh! What HAVE you been up to these past centuries, Sakura?" he chortled with laughter. His English was surprisingly good. "Look at him! That runt couldn't kill me in my sleep!"

Valeriana sighed again. "Just for that, it is tempting to have him kill you, Jirō. I have no doubt that he will if you continue to insult me."

"Oh, I dunno," Harry chuckled. "He doesn't insult well enough to really take offense. I've heard better taunts from an eleven-year-old."

"You-" the man snarled, and nearly fell from his perch in disbelief when Valeriana laughed.

"Touché, little one," she chuckled before smoothing her expression again. "However, this is becoming tiresome. Cease to bother us, Jirō, or I WILL see you dealt with." That said, she strode on, Harry following her after a mockingly shallow bow in Jirō's direction. Valeriana could hear the man grind his teeth as he watched them go.

"Who was that?" Harry asked quietly when they were out of earshot, and Valeriana felt her lips tighten.

"Not here."

Thankfully, Harry just nodded. He knew how far a vampire's hearing could reach, and there was every possibility that Jirō was following them. It was what he did, after all.

Valeriana growled softly at the thought and grabbed Harry, using her innate magic to ensure that any humans wouldn't notice them before she leapt away. Bounding away over the roofs of Kyoto's old town, Valeriana felt a scowl contort her face. Jirō had always been able to rub her the wrong way.

In her arms, Harry pulled out his wand and reached around her to cast a spell.

"He's following us," he said quietly, and Valeriana growled properly.

"Will he have noticed the spell?"

"Not unless he saw my wand," Harry said, holding on to her as she abruptly changed direction and sped up. "The spell's only visible to the caster, as far as I know. It marked him bright yellow."

Valeriana tossed a glance over her shoulder, but couldn't see anything. "He is still there?"

"Yeah."

"Of all the vampires we could have run into," she hissed under her breath. "Hold on tight." Harry wrapped his hands around her neck as she flipped him onto her back, holding on for dear life as she ran full-out. She felt him hide his face in her neck, her own eyes slit against the rushing wind. Bounding down off the roofs, Valeriana used her magic to mask them, then took off in a different direction.

"Cast whatever spells you think might hide us from him," she ordered Harry, slowing down slightly, and within a few moments she felt magic wash over her.

"Silencing charm, scent-masking, anti-tracking, and notice-me-not," he said into her ear. "Run."

She did.

OoOoO

Half an hour later, they settled down for lunch in a small restaurant. Harry promptly cast a series of privacy spells, and Valeriana closed her eyes to recover from the all-out sprint she had kept up for so long.

"It was foolish of me to assume that we would not run into any vampires here," she muttered, angry at herself. "We might have taken precautions."

"Is it a problem, if vampires know we're here?"

She opened her eyes to Harry's honestly curious expression.

"I had not intended to expose you to the vampiric community."

Harry cocked his head at that. "Why not?" He just seemed curious, and she stared at him.

"Harry, you are a _human_ ," she said intently. " _Food_. Why would I want you exposed to vampires?" The very thought of one of them draining the life from him made her tremble. "Why would I risk-" she broke off, looking away. Why hadn't she taken precautions? She was such a fool. Jirō was an informant; before the day was out the entire community would know that she was back, and with a human for company.

"I can take care of myself," Harry said defensively, and she met his indignant gaze. "I've been through plenty before; I'm pretty sure I can handle a vampire or two."

Unfortunately, that didn't reassure her. "It depends on the vampire," she said softly, and his jaw set.

"I'll be fine," he said obstinately. "I'm not about to just let myself become vampire bait."

That got a soft snort from her, and he blushed. "That was different," he mumbled. "I let you. I don't intend to let anyone else drink my blood."

She watched him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Very well. I must warn you, however," she hesitated briefly. "Most vampires are not on the 'right' side of the law."

Harry blinked at her. "You, too?"

"I was not," she admitted reluctantly.

"Yakuza?"

"Something like that." But that felt like too much of an evasion. "An assassin."

"Oh." Harry paused, assimilating that information. "That kind of makes sense, strangely. And the bloke earlier?"

"An informant." She felt unsettled, though. "You do not mind my former profession?"

Harry frowned slightly. "I've killed, too."

"You were forced to," she corrected somewhat sharply. "I had less reason."

He contemplated her for some time, and she felt the unusual urge to shift under his gaze.

"I suspected it," he said finally, and she blinked. "After I killed Voldemort. I felt a bit closer to you, though I was sure you had killed for less reason in the past. And you kept complimenting me, so I knew that in some way, you appreciated a good kill. And the books all say that vampires nearly always kill when they feed, so I was sure you must have killed that way before, at least. And you made it sound like vampires often fight when they meet, since the hierarchy is one of strength. So yeah, you've given me plenty of reason to think that you've killed before, and often." He looked at her calmly for another moment, then frowned slightly. "You look surprised."

"I-" she broke off, unsure what to say. "You do not mind?"

He looked more conflicted at that. "I don't know."

She carefully schooled her expression to keep from revealing anything, and Harry made a frustrated sound. Leaning forward, he grabbed her hand.

"Look," he said intently, "It's that- It's been what, two centuries since then? I didn't know you then, but I know you now, and I don't get the impression that you're the same person anymore. I think I'd mind if you just went around coldly killing people, but I'm not about to judge you for doing it so long ago." He frowned slightly. "I'd like to know why, know the reasons behind it, but I'm not going to pry if you don't want to talk about it. All I know is that you've treated me and everyone I know more than decently, and I'm not about to start wondering now whether it's all an act and you're actually going to murder me in my sleep as soon as you get tired of me." He spoke sardonically, but she couldn't hide her horror at the thought and his eyes widened.

"Valeriana!" he exclaimed, "I know you wouldn't! Don't you dare think I don't!"

"Never," she rushed to say, desperate that he wouldn't think that of her. "I would _never_ -"

"I know," he interrupted her, leaning over the table to give her a kiss she clung to. "Silly," he chided as he broke the kiss, his smile taking the sting out of the word. Then he grinned sheepishly. "Er – since we've got that more or less cleared up – how about some lunch?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm awfully hungry."

"Of course," she agreed, reaching for the menu. She wasn't entirely sure that they had, indeed, cleared up the issue of her past, but she recognized that Harry considered the matter settled. He was so full of contradictions. So trusting, despite everything he had been through. In his place, she would have long turned wary and cynical, and yet he remained inquisitive and open.

She just hoped that exposure to her past wouldn't accomplish what his past hadn't.

OoOoO

"Alright, so I think we've established that vampires like the taste of iron, and are more likely to enjoy foods that are rich in iron than any other, uh, substance? And you seem to taste sweetness more strongly." Harry flipped through his notebook. "Actually, I looked up how much iron is in chocolate, and apparently dark chocolate has up to 17 milligrams of iron in every 100 grams of chocolate! Even liver has less – only 13 milligrams per 100 grams."

Flipping another page in his notebook on vampire-human taste bud comparisons, Harry said, "Funnily enough, it seems matcha has the same amount of iron content as dark chocolate. Maybe that's part of why you like it so much?" he grinned up at her.

Valeriana shrugged slightly. "Perhaps. I know other vampires who are not fond of it."

"Well, Ron didn't like it at all, either," Harry grinned. "Anyway," he said, turning back to his book while Valeriana looked on fondly. Here they were, walking through the streets of a foreign country, and Harry was more interested in figuring out what things she might like than seeing the sights.

"So you can't taste bitter things at all, and hot things don't even faze you – I mean, _spicy_ hot, not _hot_ hot. Temperature seems to affect you more than me," he grinned up at her again. "Though I wonder – doesn't that mean the tea we had was very hot, for you?"

"I cooled it magically," Valeriana admitted, and he laughed.

"Got it," he chuckled, awkwardly scribbling in his book as they walked. "Wonder how you'd react to ice cream?" he suddenly asked delightedly.

"I am rather fond of kakigōri," Valeriana offered. "Shaved ice. It is simply ice and a small amount of syrup, and as such poses no problem to my nonexistent digestive system. Ice cream can be pleasant, but requires me to spit out every mouthful."

Harry smiled sympathetically at her, and she twitched her shoulder in a shrug. "I believe you will enjoy kakigōri."

"I'm sure I will," he agreed. "I don't think I've disliked anything you've had me try yet!"

Valeriana smiled slightly at that. The young wizard had taken to Japanese food with an enthusiasm that shouldn't have surprised her, and yet she found it touching that he should be so happy to explore the country she had loved so much.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, drawing her out of her thoughts. "I've been meaning to ask – is it true that vampires can't go into sunlight? I mean, you don't seem to have any trouble," he hurried to clarify when she raised an eyebrow at him – after all, they were walking down the street in broad daylight, "but all the books say you do and I'm just wondering if there's any truth to it?"

Valeriana paused, considering how best to explain.

"You remember me informing you that I was a low-level vampire when we first met?" she asked finally, and continued when he nodded. "Our magic, insofar as we have it, begins on the visual and sexual level. Most likely to make it simpler to lure in our prey," Valeriana said frankly. "When we are turned, we receive certain... improvements to our natural appearance. The main factor is skin color – it is not true that all vampires are deathly pale, for it is still dependent on our natural coloring, but humans with light skin pale to the point of being nearly white upon being turned. Others may acquire a more golden skin color if they began with olive-toned skin, or a darker brown color should they have begun with chocolate-colored skin."

Harry laughed bemusedly. "You make them sound edible!"

"Hmm," Valeriana smiled darkly. "Do I need to remind you that humans _are_ edible, to us? And you do look so delicious..."

Harry seemed more amused than surprised, and Valeriana's lips twitched again before she smoothed away the smile.

"Not only does our skin color improve, however, but our eyes become richer in color – as you have noticed – and our hair becomes more..." she shrugged helplessly, "perfect. After that, the first thing our magic enables is for us to walk in sunlight. A very low-level vampire feels the sunlight far more acutely than a human, to the point of acquiring a sunburn in short order. It is painful and requires more frequent feeding," she said curtly, remembering her own early days as a vampire. She did not particularly care to remember them. "Even for high-level vampires, strong sunlight is mildly uncomfortable, and we prefer the dark.

"Following our ability to withstand sunlight, we gain the ability to cast sexual magics," she moved on briskly. "They are generally of a hypnotizing nature. Most of our magic is nonverbal, but the sexual spells require vocalizing."

"In what language?" Harry asked curiously.

"Language is unimportant," Valeriana twitched her head in a shrug. "I personally prefer to use my native language. Romanian," she reminded him with a small measure of amusement.

"Cool," her young lover grinned. "Wish my magic worked that way!"

She cocked her head. "You are capable of nonverbal magic, are you not?"

"Only a few spells," Harry said, and she shrugged again.

"You might attempt to cast spells in English someday. However," she gestured, drawing them back to the original conversation, "for us, magic beyond that level does not require specific spells or incantations. All our magic is wish magic, though many vampires, particularly ones who had magic before being turned, will still use specific words when practicing their magic."

Harry was staring at her with wide eyes, and she paused.

"But doesn't that mean you can cast _anything_?" he asked disbelievingly. "There aren't any limitations?"

"Certainly," she said mildly. "We are unable to affect anything outside a given area of effect, for example. I could perhaps shoot off a ball of fire if I wished to – no, I have not yet attempted it," she added at his excited look, "but that ball should not last for more than two meters, perhaps less." She nodded, "We will experiment on it, if you wish. Beyond that limitation, it is also simpler for a vampire to use magic on his or her own body than someone else's, which is why I asked you to mask us earlier. I was able to hide us both from view, but it would have been a strain to attempt to cover our scents, sounds, and more in addition to the first spell."

Valeriana paused. "That is another, additional limitation: While for you it is simple to layer spells, simply casting them and allowing them to remain without any further effort on your part, all our spells remain tied to us. When I hid us from view, it was a permanent draw on my magic, while you had only to speak four incantations to hide our scents, our tracks, our sounds, and cast an additional notice-me-not charm. Such a thing is exceedingly difficult for a vampire, who would feel four simultaneous and constant draws on his or her magic." She looked at her shocked companion and felt her lips twitch in a smirk. "As you see, we have more limitations than you might have expected."

"Yeah!" Harry exclaimed, still wide-eyed. "And your magical core only grows when you drink the blood of a magical human, right?" She inclined her head, and he hesitated. "This is probably a really rude question – but what happens when a vampire drinks the blood of a magical creature? Unicorn blood curses a human with a half-life if they drink it, but has a vampire ever tried it?"

Valeriana shrugged slightly. "Most likely, yes. However, I am not aware of the effects. One of the older or more well-connected vampires may know."

Harry's expression was slightly anticipatory, then, and she shot him a sharp look. He held up his hands in an innocent gesture, and she exhaled a sigh.

"Just be sure not to offend with your questions," she said, resigning herself to potential future tense situations as a result of Harry's curiosity.

"Yes, ma'am!" he chirped, making a few notes in the notebook she had almost forgotten about. Shaking her head, Valeriana had to admit to herself that she found his curiosity endearing. At least there existed one human who didn't immediately write off her kind as monsters.

OoOoO

It was strange, Valeriana thought that night, how Harry could be so young and yet so old. He had the eagerness and curiosity of a child, soaking up new experiences like a sponge and endearingly shy when it came to praise, but he could also be focused, mature – and sexual.

They had continued their relationship after Harry left Hogwarts, but Valeriana had refused to do anything past kissing before his 17th Birthday – harder said than done, for both of them. There had been times where both of them had been close to saying "to hell with it," and going at it, especially considering a single year would hardly make a difference when their ages were already centuries apart, but still…

Stroking a finger down his cheek, relaxed in sleep, Valeriana smiled. Their first time was only two nights past, and his wonder and reverence had been everything she had dreamed of and more, his change from tentative touches to desperate ones as beautiful as she had imagined. And to have had that in Kyoto, the city that was more a home to her than anywhere else…

That sobered her. She had spent centuries here, yes, but the woman from that time was a different one from the woman she was now, and the temptation to take Harry and leave was nearly overwhelming. He didn't seem to mind the vague knowledge he had of her past, but she didn't want him to find out more; didn't want him to know the company she used to keep, the things she used to do – the person she used to be.

How could such a pure person love one who had gloried in blood and death?

OoOoO

Unfortunately, the choice was taken out of her hands before she could reach a decision. They were standing on the balcony of Kiyomizu-dera, enjoying the view spread out before them, when Valeriana felt the tingle of eyes on her and knew that unless she fled now there would be no going back.

She glanced down – mortals had actually survived the 13-meter drop, and in the Edo period the practice had been believed to grant you one wish – and was briefly tempted to grab Harry and jump. Maybe then her wish that he not leave her might be granted…

But then it was too late, and the vampire stood beside them.

"Chimamire no Sakura-sama," the messenger said, bowing with wary eyes. "You are requested to appear before Lord Tsukishima tonight."

She didn't react for a long moment, her eyes looking unseeingly over the city spread out before her with the weight of her past and her hopes for the future weighing down on her.

"Very well."

"…Sakura-sama?" Harry asked softly after several minutes of heavy silence, the chattering of human tourists so at odds with her internal turmoil. "That sounds so pretty. Maybe I'll start calling you that," he teased lightly, and an unexpected shiver ran down her spine.

"Please do not."

"Alright, I'll stick to Valeriana," the wizard agreed easily, but she could hear the concern flavoring his voice. "Hey, you want to go get some kakigōri? It's kind of hot out in the sun," he smiled, turning slightly, and she followed suit a moment later.

"I think I've enjoyed the cherry the most so far," Harry chattered brightly, covering the silence that had settled over her like a blanket of ice, "though that melon one we had the other day was really refreshing… I wonder if I could get both in one cup?" he mused as they stepped into the shaded interior of the shrine. Old wood, older even than she, held up the shrine, and she tried to pull its calm into herself, make its tranquility a part of her soul. It had stood in the same spot since the Nara period, if she remembered correctly, unconcerned with the comings and goings of thousands of years and humans, of storms and snow and ice, and if she could only find that same peace and acceptance within herself…

She was vaguely aware of getting kakigōri, Harry's chatter washing over her like waves over the shore, of the cool taste of melon on her tongue, of walking down the street – but she only snapped back to herself when Harry spun and pinned her against the wall, crushing his lips to hers in a demanding kiss.

"Ha-" she started, eyes widening when he bit down harshly on her lip.

"With me again?" he pulled back, and her breath stuttered at the way impatience, concern and worry flashed in his eyes. "Good. Now tell me what the hell is going on, because I'm obviously missing something."

"It's…" but she didn't have the words, and there seemed to be a huge ball stuck in her throat. She averted her face, and a hand stopped her.

"Don't. If you want me gone, just say so."

"No!" she grabbed him, then, wanting desperately to take back whatever had put that tone in his voice. The tone that sounded like abandonment behind a front of bravado. "No, Harry, no," she said intently, searching his green eyes for some nameless emotion. "No, I don't want you gone. It's just…" Her face trembled against her will, and she wrestled on her blank mask, stuffing away what felt horribly like the beginning of tears. There was worry in Harry's face, and behind her mask was a terrible, high wail.

"I need tea," she said, and it sounded hollow even to her own ears.

"I'll apparate us back to our hotel," Harry said carefully, apparating them away as soon as she gave a tight nod. "Here," he said, already releasing her to take out her tea set. The spell he used to boil the water was the last thing he said for a long time, watching her in uneasy silence as she tried futilely to center herself, tried to draw on the peace of the ceremony that had helped her so many times before. Even the first sip, a sweet shock that never failed to send ripples of pleasure through her, didn't help her regain the equilibrium she so desperately sought.

"Alright, that obviously didn't help," her companion said once she'd set down her empty cup. "If you're so upset, maybe we should just leave. There's nothing keeping us here."

She laughed hollowly, heart constricting at his shocked look. "We have caught the attention of the most dangerous man in Japan. There is nowhere you could go where he could not track you down. And I run from no man."

"There's no shame in running away," Harry frowned, and she snorted.

"Running away is a declaration of weakness, of inferiority," she said bluntly. "Running away gets you killed because you don't deserve to be left alive."

Harry bristled at that, but got himself under control before speaking again. "So the bloke earlier was from the head of the Japanese vampires?"

"Yes. I have been ordered to present myself to him tonight." And there is no way in hell I will let you out of my sight for even a second, Valeriana thought fiercely. If they dare lay a hand on you, their lives are forfeit.

"Alright," Harry shrugged, "and that has your panties in such a twist why..?"

She realized she was staring at him only when he rolled his eyes. "Valeriana, I had a homicidal maniac out for my blood for most of my life. With all due respect, even the head of the Yakuza can't really compare."

She blinked at him for another moment, then shook her head slowly. "You do not know what you speak of, little one…"

"Then tell me," he stressed, leaning forward. "Why did you shut me out as soon as that messenger left? What has you so afraid?"

"I… I don't know," she lied. "My past," she conceded when his expression grew pinched. "The future. That I might… that he might demand I reenter his service. That I might find that I haven't changed after all. I don't want…" she trailed off, but Harry just watched her silently until her mask broke completely.

"I don't want to lose my humanity now that I've regained it!" she exclaimed, hiding her face with her hands. "I don't want to lose you," she cried, her emotions well and truly out of her control, and she heard Harry move before his arms wrapped around her. "I don't want to lose you," she repeated, the words muffled by her hands and his shirt, his body so warm against the block of ice that had taken over her body.

"You won't," a firm voice promised her as she trembled in his arms, holding her as though he could protect her from harm. "You won't lose me."

And God, how she wished she could believe him.

OoOoO

They stood within her secret hideout, a place hidden from the world with the best wards money could buy, and while Harry was admiring her collection of wigs Valeriana stood before an open wardrobe, her past hanging in front of her in the form of innocuous white robes. They hung there, delicate kimonos and summer yukatas and an assortment of other styles and materials, silently reminding of past times she had worn them and the things she had done. They were spotless, but in her mind's eye the wardrobe dripped with blood.

Finally she swallowed and closed the door, smooth wood retaining the warmth of her grip even after she let go. She could feel Harry's curious gaze on her.

Deeming words unnecessary – the young wizard had an uncanny ability to understand her even without words – Valeriana crossed to the wall of weapons and began outfitting herself. She already had long daggers concealed under either sleeve of her baggy sweatshirt and a few darts hidden inside her black leather boots, but they wouldn't be enough if it came to a confrontation, and she added two crossed swords on her back, tied up her hair into a bun that was held up by six sharp sticks, wrapped a long belt thrice around her thigh and another around her waist, hidden by the sweatshirt over it. Not that anyone could fail to notice that she was armed to the teeth, not with the twin sword handles extending past her shoulders.

Casting another glance over the remains of her collection – the razor-sharp whip was tempting, to be sure – she decided there was nothing Harry could use capably enough to merit taking along and turned away.

"Ready?" He looked calm and collected, lamplight playing over his features, and she felt abruptly certain that he would manage to retain that confidence even in the bowels of Japan's largest vampire coven.

"Yes."

OoOoO

Silence reigned as they were led through the halls of the Tsukishima estate, elegant paper screens lining their way. The only sounds were those of Harry's breathing and footsteps, sounds that reminded Valeriana far too much of walking down these same halls with Roerich by her side. She and the Tsukishima servants were schooled in the art of complete silence, but Roerich had felt it beneath his pride to "skulk around", and Harry of course had never had the need to learn true stealth.

Letting her mind drift even as her eyes darted around the bare hall, Valeriana thought back to the words of caution she had given Harry before leaving for the estate.

"The Tsukishima couple has been around for longer than anyone knows," she had warned, lingering in the entrance of the apartment. "Rumor has it that Tsukishima Chie was a daughter of Emperor Ōjin – back in the Kofun period, around the year 300," Harry's eyes had bugged out at that, "and that she became a vampire upon meeting and falling in love with Tsukishima Eiji. No one knows whether there is any truth to the tale, or whether their names are ones they took on only later in life, but they have been a force behind the scenes for longer than you can imagine. You are nothing to them, and if you are wise you will keep it that way."

"What about you?"

Valeriana had needed a long moment before she could answer that question honestly.

"I hope I am nothing to them."

And she truly did; she hoped this was just idle curiosity on their part and not something more meaningful. She had been a prominent member of their court for over a century, and though she had written them letter of apology and gratitude after Roerich's death she had never made her apologies in person; she had simply up and disappeared. And she knew they were the type to hold grudges.

But this was no time for fear, for all that she feared for Harry's life, and Valeriana let her feelings flow out until all she was left with was tranquility and acceptance. When the servant leading their way stopped and gestured to one of the paper-and-wood screens with a bow, Valeriana was able to smoothly return the bow, slide open the screen, and sink to the tatami floor in a dogeza – her first in over two centuries. Beside her, she heard Harry awkwardly mimic her, and realized she should have taken the time to teach him basic formal etiquette.

"Sakura-chan," a melodic voice greeted her. "It has been a long time."

"My deepest apologies, most esteemed Chie-sama. This one has been remiss in contacting you." It was odd, to be speaking formal Japanese again, and Valeriana spared a moment to regret that Harry would be unable to understand anything unless Chie-sama chose to switch to English – which would be a bad sign in itself, for it would indicate an interest in him, however fleeting.

"It has been a long time indeed, Sakura-san," a male voice said, and her mouth ran momentarily dry. "Your elegance has not lessened in the long days of your absence, nor has your skill with our beautiful language declined. You must join us and tell us how you have fared these last few years."

"Most venerable Tsukishima Eiji-sama," Valeriana said, and she would have bowed even lower had her forehead not already been touching the ground. "This one has not deserved such good fortune."

"Most respectfully, Chimamire no Sakura-san, you have been too long gone from our court if you believe yourself unworthy. You have surely not forgotten the art of the tea ceremony?"

"Even for such a lowly foreigner as myself it would be an unforgiveable disgrace to forget such a perfect art, most venerable Eiji-sama," she said honestly, and heard the rustle of cloth.

"Then come, Sakura-chan, and give us the pleasure of being served tea by one who appreciates the beauty of the art."

"The honor you do me is too great, most esteemed Chie-sama," Valeriana spoke to the woven floor, reluctantly sitting up into an upright position but not daring to take her eyes away from the mat before her.

A light laugh drifted through the room. "Ever so serious, Sakura-chan," the most powerful woman of Japan laughed. "Come, let us not be strangers after so many years. There is no need to avert your eyes, and do leave off the many 'most esteemed's; they serve no purpose but to lengthen our names to the point of absurdity. Surely you do not believe that we would treat one who served us so long and so well unkindly?"

"Your kindness and generosity are known far and wide, fair Chie-sama; but the way I left was inexcusably rude, and to have returned to Kyoto without immediately coming to pay my respects…"

"Not in the least, Sakura-chan," the other vampiress replied, and there was no laughter in her voice now. "Had I been in your position, I would not have been in a suitable state to write even the elegant and honorable letter you left us, and then to return to a place with such memories…" the lady trailed off, and a pain-filled silence lay heavy on the room.

"But you are here now," she resumed, her elegant voice soft. "We would be very much interested in hearing how you have fared these past few centuries, Sakura-chan, and what brings you back to the Kyoto you once called home. Will you not join us?"

And Valeriana finally allowed herself to look up and meet the dark eyes of Tsukishima Chie, the woman for whom she had once upon a time both killed – and died.

OoOoO

It had been many years since Valeriana had enjoyed the pleasure of a full-length formal tea ceremony, and the times she had hosted one had been few and far between, but the joy of spending a full four hours immersed in the ceremony, preparing both koicha and usucha, centered her in a way she had not felt since long before Roerich's death. It was perfect tranquility, a celebration of the profound beauty of simplicity and nature in a way only the Japanese were capable of.

The room itself was comparatively small; a simple 8-tatami room, its single decoration was a white scroll mounted on the wall behind the royal couple, and the unpretentiousness of the room only accentuated the inhuman beauty of the true hosts of the house. They were dressed in court costumes with the finest indigo patterning, Chie-sama's hair done up in an elaborate hairdo and Eiji-sama's pulled back in a style popular centuries before.

They hadn't changed at all in her absence.

For the duration of the tea ceremony they didn't touch on the past, the future, or any other mundane topic, focusing wholly on the beauty and grace of the ceremony, but even such a long rite comes to an end and Valeriana said the closing phrase with none of the reluctance she would have expected. Even Harry, who had had to stop kneeling an hour into the ceremony, seemed saddened by the end of the occasion, and murmured his own thanks when he bowed along with the vampires.

"That was very fine, Sakura-san," Eiji-sama complimented. "It is rare for a foreigner to display such mastery in such a deeply Japanese art."

Valeriana bowed respectfully. "This one had the excellent fortune of being tutored by the revered Rikyū Koji-sensei until his death in 1591."

Tsukishima Eiji's gaze sharpened. "Is that why you went after the Toyotomi clan with such fervor, Sakura-san?"

Valeriana felt a centuries-old stab of anger at Toyotomi Hideyoshi for ordering her instructor to commit ritual suicide, but was spared an answer by Chie-sama's offended scolding.

"Eiji, how could you bring such a topic into the tea room! Especially when it was on your orders that Sakura-chan allied herself with Tokugawa Ieyasu against the Toyotomi. She was never less than exemplary in her service!"

There was a brief crackle between the pair, then the vampire inclined his head. "It is true that Sakura-san served us faithfully for years. I apologize for raising a superfluous topic from the past in the tea room."

Chie-sama just nodded her acceptance of his apology before turning to Valeriana with an anticipatory expression. "Sakura-chan, the ceremony is over, and as beautifully done as we had expected; won't you now indulge an old woman's curiosity?"

"You are certainly not an old woman, fair Chie-sama," Valeriana temporized, "and I fear there is nothing much to tell. I have done little of note in the last two centuries."

"And yet there is an interesting story there, is there not?" Chie-sama asked innocently, her eyes flicking briefly over to Harry before resettling on her face. "Your young companion does not seem to understand Japanese, but I do not have the impression that you brought him as a present."

At that, Valeriana tensed. "I regret my discourtesy, esteemed Chie-sama, but the young human is my traveling companion and I have many enemies in this city. I did not wish to leave him behind, despite the insult I feared it might cause you for me to bring a human so deeply into your enclave with the desire to leave it later with him by my side." She had brought a very fine gift, of course, but to a vampire, the finest gift one could give was particularly rare or valuable blood, and the Boy-Who-Lived could certainly qualify as such.

"It is no insult from one such as you, Sakura-chan," the other woman waved off her apology, "and I am more cross with you over the repeated use of the word 'esteemed' when I had expressly told you to do away with it. But no matter," she cocked her head slightly, delicate hair ornaments jingling with the motion. "I am more interested in the story behind such an intriguing pairing…"

So Valeriana, with a distinct sense of discomfort, told the story of her time in England – a blink of an eye, to a vampire, but such a meaningful one, and she could see that Chie-sama was quite taken by it.

"It is rare," Chie-sama said, and Harry started at being abruptly addressed in English, "for a human to be so open-minded. For your acceptance of Sakura-chan when she had so lost herself, I thank you." She gave him the very slightest inclination of the head, and Valeriana was proud when Harry knew enough to bow deeply in response.

"There is nothing to thank me for, Tsukishima Chie-sama," he said respectfully, coming up out of his bow. "She showed me the same acceptance, and that is just as rare in my life as in hers. But I would like to thank you both for the great honor of this evening," he bowed again, even more deeply, "and for the beauty of a true tea ceremony. It has been an honor."

"That is well," Eiji-sama said simply, turning back to Valeriana and to Japanese. "And yet, you might have been wiser to leave him in another place. You may have many enemies outside of this estate, Sakura-san, but within it there is one who might not be as pleased as my wife to see you with a mortal man."

A blink betrayed Valeriana's surprise, and Eiji-sama reached out to ring a small bell.

"He will come forthwith."

The words echoed hollowly in her mind, heart racing, and she knew it was all showing on her face when Harry's concerned voice came as from far away, a warm hand touched her arm, but all her attention was on the door behind her and the footsteps she could hear approaching.

The door slid open, Harry turned – and a shallow huff of breath left her, face contorted in ways she hadn't allowed since-

"Moy tsvetok," a rumbling voice cut across all her thoughts, and she couldn't move, couldn't react through the emotions paralyzing her. "It's been a long time." That familiar voice, that familiar language, the Russian she had avoided since that day in 1782.

"Roerich," she breathed, and felt Harry twitch in surprise.

"Valeriana," Roerich Petrov replied in his deep burr. "Will you not greet your husband?"

At that, pure fury lanced through her, and she clenched trembling hands. "Greet… my husband?" The Russian words rolled off her tongue like poison. "My husband died long ago." She was vaguely aware of Chie-sama's interested expression and Eiji-sama's impassive one, of Harry's hand resting on her arm, but her fingers itched to pull her weapons and launch herself at the man behind her.

"I have been back for a long time now, wife."

That short-circuited everything in her, and her expression closed off completely. "Why didn't you find me, then," she said in a tone that sounded dead even to her. "Why did you let me believe- Do you have any idea-" she broke off, covering her face with hands that trembled with emotions she couldn't suppress.

"I KILLED you, Roerich!" she yelled suddenly, whirling on him and dislodging Harry's hand. "I BURIED YOU!" Springing forward out of her crouch, she grabbed the burly man by the shirt, something within her dying at his unchanged appearance, screaming in his bearded face while he just stood there watching her with his deep-set blue eyes. "I DIED that day, Roerich, I went LOOKING for death, welcomed it, wanted to stop FEELING because you were gone, gone, GONE," she sobbed, hitting him shakily. "Life had no meaning without you, no light, no reason, how DARE you stand in front of me now and ask me why I won't greet you when you've been dead to me for centuries," she roared in his face, infuriated beyond belief by his level look. "You left me, you BASTARD, and God help me, if I find out you didn't even try to find me I'll have your guts for garters!" Still he looked at her with that infuriatingly level gaze. "Well?" she snarled up at him, at that face she had loved and kissed and buried- "DID YOU?"

"No," he said simply, and Valeriana saw red.

"YOU BASTARD," she screamed, and he didn't defend when she punched him across the face. "I WAS YOUR WIFE!" Lunging up, she tore a chunk out of his neck and spat it to the floor – the worst insult you could give a vampire. He stopped her then, one hand around her wrists and another around her neck.

"You ARE my wife," he growled, and she laughed ferally.

"No," Valeriana said, and kicked him so hard that he flew out of the room and through the paper screen across the hall. "I'm not."

"Valeriana," he growled, but she cut him off.

"Till death do us part," she laughed again, the sound cold. "You were dead to me. And now, knowing that you didn't even attempt to find me? You are nothing to me," she spat.

"So you found a HUMAN to replace me?" Roerich asked poisonously, and she bared her fangs at him.

"He is more man than you ever were."

"That little boy?" Roerich snarled, and she gave him a contemptuous look before turning away.

"If you will excuse us, esteemed Tsukishima-sama, my companion and I will be on our way." She bowed deeply, Harry hurriedly standing and following suit, and Chie-sama bowed slightly in response.

"You will have to visit again before you leave, Sakura-chan," she said mildly. "Go well."

Another deep bow, and Valeriana strode out, keeping her gaze firmly averted from the muscled blond standing in the remains of a delicate paper screen. Harry fell in step beside her.

And thankfully, he knew better than to say anything.

The silence lasted only till they made it to their rented apartment; then Harry's concerned touch undid her iron control and she broke down, clutching at him desperately and sobbing as he reassured her that he was hers.

"I'd never do that to you," he whispered, holding her close. "Never." And she believed it, could feel in her soul that Harry's kind nature would remain even if his love and passion for her faded, knew that he would never let her believe him dead for centuries after forcing her to kill him with her own blade.

"He will be after you, now," she whispered into his neck once she'd gotten herself under control. "He will want to kill you, and reclaim me."

"Let him try," Harry narrowed his eyes, tightening his hold on Valeriana. "All his centuries have nothing on me."

At that, Valeriana actually laughed, though the sound was more than slightly hysteric. "The great samurai, defeated by a teenager. That will be a sight to see." She exhaled shakily against his neck. "He looks down on magic," she told him. "He has never needed it, you see. He is... very strong. You will have to use your magic, for you could never hope to match him in a physical duel."

Harry nodded, determination in every line of his body. "Good. I can handle that." He paused, then cocked his head curiously. "What happens when you hit a vampire with the Killing Curse?"

Valeriana frowned slightly, her thoughts derailed. "I do not know. How does the Killing Curse kill?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "That's the thing. Nobody seems to know whether the Killing Curse stops the heart, the brain, rips out the soul, or what exactly it does. So I have no clue whether it would even work against a vampire."

Valeriana considered that. "It is illegal for wizards, is it not?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "I was just curious."

"I do not think any wizard would decry you for using it against a vampire," Valeriana said frankly. "If you have the opportunity to use it, perhaps the results would be interesting." Harry seemed uncertain, though.

"I dunno – I mean, it was always Voldemort's spell, you know?" He hesitated. "I remember it killing my parents," he confessed, and Valeriana reacted instinctively.

"I apologize, Harry," she pulled him closer, but though he accepted the tighter hold he shook his head.

"You couldn't have known," he said, and she could hear a slight smile in his voice. "It's fine, anyway – it's not like I ever really knew them, and I've avenged them now. I just don't think I'd want to cast the spell that killed them."

Valeriana nodded her understanding, and there was a brief silence.

"What are we going to do now, anyway?" Harry broke it. "Go about our plans as though nothing happened? Wait for something to happen? We can't go on the offense, right?"

"Right," Valeriana agreed heavily. "We will have to be alert; it is too soon after our first visit to pay the Tsukishimas another one, and Chie-sama ordered me to make my farewell before leaving. Not to do so would be a grave slight, with potentially fatal results, but we cannot go again for at least three days. The proper thing to do would be to arrange the meeting with a letter, which we should correctly do several days in advance; at least seven, considering their status and importance."

Harry huffed a breath. "At least eight days until we can leave, then, if we send the letter tomorrow. Today, I suppose, since it's long after midnight." They had presented themselves at the estate at 11 PM, and had not made it back till nearly 5 AM. "What are we going to do here for another week?"

"Go about our plans as though nothing happened," Valeriana repeated his earlier words. "There is much I still wanted to show you in Kyoto, and though we will need to be on our guard it is not in Roerich's nature to mount a stealth attack. He is more likely to challenge you outright." Unless he has changed in the past two centuries, Valeriana thought bitterly. Certainly I have.

But Harry was nodding. "Alright, then. I'll be sure to cast some spells on us tomorrow, and we have our linked earrings in case we ever get separated – which reminds me, I promised Hermione I would write to her!" He pulled back slightly to smile at her. "Maybe let's just have a lazy day inside tomorrow; relax some, maybe give Ron a call, spar a bit? Sound good?"

"It does," Valeriana smiled slightly, and leaned in for a soft kiss. "It sounds excellent."

The next day did them a world of good. They slept in, cuddled while discussing things unrelated to their trip, then checked out of their rented apartment and went to Valeriana's hidden one. They'd both agreed it would be safer for them to stay there from then on out, and Valeriana would sleep easier knowing they had the advantage should someone attempt an attack.

Once they had settled in there, Valeriana fed from Harry and shamelessly took advantage of him in his weakened state – not that he objected in the least, it had to be admitted. Watching him communicate with the Weasleys by means of the linked mirror was a different kind of balm, and sparring with him another, so that by the end of the day Valeriana felt much more optimistic about the week to come.

"So," said Harry, sprawled across the floor with a bowl of takeout. "What's the story behind chopsticks?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye when he looked up from the awkward way his fingers were wrapped around the delicate utensils, and Valeriana raised an eyebrow.

"The use of chopsticks began as cooking utensils capable of reaching deep into pots of boiling water or oil, and the oldest set of chopsticks dates from at least 12000 B.C.," she said drily, "though it is said that people didn't begin to use them as eating utensils until 400 A.D., when a population boom across China demanded food be stretched to last, leading cooks to chop ingredients to a finer size that happened to be suited to the delicate points of chopsticks. Apparently Confucius – who was a vegetarian – supported the use of chopsticks rather than knives at the table, and the simple utensils spread quickly across Asia. There is the added appeal that chopsticks can be made of a larger variety of materials than knives, and not only wooden chopsticks but also a variety of metal, stone, and even coral ones circulated. Silver was considered a particularly fine material, as it was believed to corrode if brought into contact with poison." She gave a little shrug, pleased that Harry's initial shock had turned to interest. "They might have believed differently had they known that silver corrodes through contact with sulfur, which is in fact a dietary requirement for humans. The main reason for the development of silver tarnish is through contact with the air." Harry laughed, and her lips twitched. "How is your meal?"

"Delicious, thank you," her young companion grinned at her. "Want a taste?"

She gave the long noodles only a glance before declining.

OoOoO

Returning to their sightseeing was a tense affair for both of them: Valeriana because she caught glimpses of several vampires watching them, and Harry because he picked up on her rigidity. None of their watchers approached them on the first day, and there were fewer on the second, but on the third a woman put themselves in their path while Japanese humans passed by with a few looks at the enviably pale women.

"Chimamire no Sakura," the petite vampiress said sharply. "The Bloody Cherry Blossom. I thought we were well and truly rid of you." She spoke in accented English, clearly meaning for Harry to understand her, and her eyes glinted harshly beneath plucked brows.

"It used to be that you wore only white," her disdainful gaze took in Valeriana's greyscale outfit from head to toe, lingering on the visible weapons. "All the better to see the blood on, so that you could prove how precise your kills were. Sakura in flight / Delicate beauty of night / The red blood of death," she quoted a haiku put into circulation among their kind centuries before. "One wonders what changed."

Valeriana didn't grace that with an answer.

"Well," the older woman snorted. "Jirō was right. Some things don't change." Walking slowly towards them, her wrist twitched – and she found herself at the business end of a wand.

"Back off," Harry hissed, and the vampiress paused for a moment before resheathing her dagger.

"Seems you've trained your lapdog well, Chisakura. Be careful that someone else doesn't leash him." She waited for a retort, snorting disgustedly when neither of them took the bait. "Watch your back, Renshi."

Harry waited until she had disappeared from sight before putting away his wand, ignoring the bystanders. "Renshi?"

"The title for a skilled martial artist. It is based not only on skill and understanding on martial arts, but also on teaching abilities and the perfection of one's character. It was once widely known that I was unable to achieve a higher rank than Renshi." She briefly bared her fangs in an instinctive snarl, and didn't elaborate though she could see Harry looking at her curiously from the corner of her eye. How could she put into words that she had been an unfeeling shell towards everyone but Roerich back then?

"What are the higher ranks?" Harry asked instead, and that question at least was safe.

"Kyōshi and Hanshi. The former might be considered an Expert, while the latter is a Grand Master, or "teacher of teachers". Which title one has depends on the number of dan – ranks – one achieves. Godan and Rokudan – the fifth and sixth rank – are the required level for the title of Renshi."

"Huh. Do you think you could reach a higher level now?"

They started walking in silence as Valeriana considered the question. It had been a long time since she had been failed the Kyōshi examination, and she had changed a lot since then…

"Yes. I am certain I could."

Harry gave her a warm smile, and she briefly touched his arm before leading him on towards Fushimi Inari-Taisha, the long path of red torii gates Kyoto was particularly famous for.

"Wow," Harry gasped when they arrived, looking into the seemingly endless line of red gates extending up the mountain. "How many _are_ there?"

"Thousands," Valeriana said, laying a hand on his nape. "Each torii was donated, and they line the way to the inner shrine in the middle of the mountain. Along the way we might spot statues of foxes, who are the messengers of Inari Ōkami, the god of agriculture, rice, tea and sake. In my time he was also the protector of warriors."

Harry nodded, digesting that information. "Why foxes?"

A shrug. "I do not know that anyone knows, but kitsune are one of Japanese folklore's most prevalent animals. They are mainly depicted as tricksters, but Inari's messengers are pure white and have the power to ward off evil, including nogitsune – spirit foxes that do not serve Inari." Valeriana looked over at her intrigued companion. "We might ask a monk or priest the reason behind messenger foxes once we reach the shrine."

"Sounds good!" Harry agreed, shooting her a grin before starting up the path. "Want to race up it?"

"Only if you care to lose," she retorted drily, and his laughter drifted back as he broke into a sprint. Shaking her head, Valeriana started jogging to keep up. He'd give up soon enough; his energy was greater than his endurance.

All through their visit to Fushimi Inari-Taisha she felt ill at ease, the threat from earlier making her overly jumpy, and she stuck close to Harry throughout their visit. But one cannot keep their eyes on someone forever…

It happened on the way down as she was translating inscriptions on the torii for Harry, he making little interested noises and comments – until abruptly she became aware of only silence greeting her translations.

"Harry?" she whirled, heart stuttering when she only saw another wandering pair further down the path. "Harry?"

"Harry!" she screamed, sending out her magic in a desperate bid to find him and feeling nothing.

"Good luck getting him back," a voice commented behind her, and her blade was at the speaker's throat before her mind had even processed the words.

"Where is he," she snarled into the man's pale face, knocking him out as soon as a stuttered word left his lips and bounding up onto a torii, dashing down the red pathway with one word like a curse on her lips.

"Tsukishima."

OoOoO

Later, she would wonder if she went insane in the hour to follow, but as Valeriana slaughtered her way through a vampire coven she only knew the burning rage and piercing terror consuming her entire being, Harry the only thought in her mind. Blades split flesh and bone, magic burst heads, heels crushed windpipes and shattered skulls, leaving a trail of corpses in her wake.

"He's worth a thousand of you!" she roared, exploding the room with her magic and reducing a group of vampires to ashes, thrusting her swords through the heads of two opponents who were too sloppy to evade. She was dripping in blood by the time she reached the room that held Harry, screaming in mindless rage at the vampire bent over his limp body, but he batted aside her blades with a grin that bared teeth coated in Harry's blood.

"I see why you had the boy with you, my blossom," Roerich said. "He did have delightfully strong blood, didn't he?"

A feral scream burst out of Valeriana at that, and before she knew it Roerich's head was flying from his shoulders, severed by a sharp burst of magic she cast nearly instinctively while she dashed to Harry, hoping against hope that he wasn't dead, not dead, her fault, she couldn't lose him-

Finding a pulse, she snatched up his body and ran, blind to everything but the all-encompassing need to save him. She almost flew to the magical quarter, clutching Harry's limp body close as she crashed through the door of a potions shop. Shoppers scattered with screams, but she had eyes only for the shelves – Harry had told her of a potion that doctors used when they needed more time to save someone – there! Grabbing the bottle of Draught of Living Death, Valeriana upended the bottle into Harry's mouth, forcing her trembling hands to hold his lips closed, lightly stroking his throat until he swallowed. When his body grew cold and his pulse stuttered and stopped, Valeriana felt that her lifeless heart, too, must have stopped along with his.

"Oh, God," she sobbed, clutching him to her. Hearing panicked breaths nearby – the shop owner, she realized – she leapt back out of the store, only pausing to grab the antidote. What now, her mind screamed at her. He needed blood desperately. Blood. She trembled. She could turn him, make him like her, he could never die on her, he'd be strong and vibrant and – and dead, she knew, sinking to her knees with an anguished sob. She didn't want to see Harry reduced to that, to a being that had to drink human blood to survive. He would never forgive her if she turned him now, without his consent and after coming so close to death by the hands of vampires. No, she had to find another way, had to find another way though it would break her heart to see him walk away afterwards.

Standing shakily, Valeriana took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Harry in her arms. The wizarding hospital, then. No, she thought, freezing. They didn't do blood transfusions like the Muggles did. But any Muggle would take one look at Harry and tell her he was dead, she thought shakily. She couldn't go to either.

Stifling a sob, Valeriana ran back in the direction of the shop she had just fled from. Blood replenisher. She would take blood replenishing potions, and leave the money for what she took, Harry would want her to, and find a human with similar blood to his, and she would have to nurse him back to life herself. It seemed an impossible task.

OoOoO

It took a week.

A week of carefully timed blood replenishers and tiny doses of foreign blood injected into his veins before Valeriana thought he might survive being given the antidote to the Draught of Living Death. A week tending to a corpse.

Giving him the antidote was one of the most harrowing things Valeriana had ever done, and when his heart beat for the first time she broke down.

"Dumnezeule," she sobbed, clutching his hand in hers and feeling his pulse beneath her fingers. "Oh my God," she repeated over and over in her native language, a chant interrupted only by her sobs and the sound of soft breathing. She had almost given up on hearing that sound again.

When his eyes opened for the first time, she was right there by his bedside, but she hadn't expected his first reaction to be a dry gasp that sent him into a coughing fit. She had expected him to cringe away, be confused or wary or any number of reactions, but as she steadied him she felt the hurt caused by his shock.

"Val-na," he forced past a raspy throat once he got over his coughs, "what… happened to you?"

Valeriana rocked back, surprise furrowing her brow, but managed to hold him steady. "What?"

"You look… terrible," the weak voice said, concern in glazed eyes. "What happened?"

She found herself speechless, staring at the gaunt man in the bed, unaware that he saw someone just as sickly by his bedside. She had made herself sick with worry, hadn't fed once, hadn't slept but for the times exhaustion had knocked her out for an hour before she forced herself to return to her despairing vigil, but that all seemed insignificant in the face of his near-death.

"Nothing happened to me, Harry," she said finally, looking blankly down at him. "You nearly… Harry, you nearly died." It was all she could do to keep her voice from shaking. "Do you remember what happened?"

A frown tugged at his eyebrows. "You were telling me about the torii." She could see the confusion in his face as he tried to remember what came after that; then his eyes widened in sudden recollection.

"Roerich! I woke up and he was there; someone must have knocked me out…" he swallowed, grimacing at the sensation against his dry throat. "He bit me, didn't he, and I couldn't find my wand, couldn't fight him…" Harry frowned. "He nearly killed me, didn't he?"

"Yes."

The wizard exhaled slowly. "Well, I'm glad he didn't. Am I a vampire now?"

Valeriana found herself staring at him, unable to comprehend how he could pose that question so matter-of-factly. "No. No, you are not a vampire, Harry."

"Okay." He closed his eyes with a sigh, sinking further into the bed. "Probably would be easier if I was," he murmured. "Maybe later."

And Valeriana, shocked beyond words, watched as he slipped back into sleep.

OoOoO

Even more surprising to her was when, upon waking again, he ordered her to go out and feed.

"You look terrible," he said flatly. "Go find some people to drink from. Just be careful, yeah? You look like you could drink a human whole." Patting the blankets weakly, he smiled crookedly. "And, er, pick me up something to eat while you're out? I'm starving."

Valeriana nodded jerkily, made sure his glass of water was within reach, and left before she could think about it too much. How could he send her out to drink from other humans when he'd nearly died from another vampire doing just that? A cold hand gripped her heart at the thought of never being allowed near him again. Him welcoming her in had been a thousand times better than preying on a stranger, his acceptance and even pleasure in the act a balm that had made being undead seem almost… insignificant.

Grabbing a passerby, she leapt to the rooftop and sunk her fangs into his neck, the action as instinctive as breathing had once been, and nearly passed out at the sweet rush of blood across her tongue.

"Just be careful, yeah?" Harry's words echoed in her mind, and she dropped the human in horror, panting at the sight of his bloodless face. A shaking hand found a pulse, and she broke down crying over the stranger.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "So sorry, so sorry…"

She didn't know how long she spent crying over the motionless body, lost in her grief and horror, before a voice snapped her out of it.

"Disgusting. How young are you, to be crying over your food?"

She stilled, the abilities trained over many years as an assassin taking over. By their sounds there were up to five vampires behind her at a distance of approximately five meters, likely of a low rank if they were in this region of Kyoto, and all male if her nose wasn't mistaken.

"Hey, show some respect to your elders," another jeered, and she turned slowly. She was unarmed, but upon seeing the vampires confronting her she realized it would be an uncontested fight if they chose to attack.

"Elders?" she whispered, her feelings once more firmly locked away. "You don't look older than a decade."

They bristled, as she had expected, and weapons were drawn. She noted their poor quality with sudden disdain. She wouldn't be caught dead with the inferior dagger the leader held.

"Who the hell do you think you are? We're all over 50 years turned now, putaro."

She did snort at that, rising slowly and absently appreciative of the breeze blowing her hair out behind her. There was no trace of tears when she spoke. "You couldn't hope to match me with so little experience, young ones."

"Young-?" the leader choked, launching himself at her, but one of the others held him back.

"How old are you, then?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What a rude question to ask a lady. Suffice to say I am older than all of you put together. Multiplied by two." Unless they had been over 16 when they were turned, but taking only immortal age into account – which was the way of the vampiric community – she was certainly their elder by an order of magnitude.

"The hell…"

"Who cares," the leader snarled, still pulling at his companion's hands. "The tramp was crying over a human, for fuck's sake! What kind of vampire does that?"

"The kind that thinks nothing of slaughtering an entire coven," a soft voice said from off to Valeriana's right, and that the younger vampires jumped in surprise only showed their inexperience. She had noticed the other vampiress's presence seconds back.

"Akemi-san," she greeted levelly. "How kind of you to join us."

"Sakura-san. The Tsukishima coven is not pleased with you."

"I did not expect them to be."

"Did you manage to rescue your companion, at least?"

The fact that the other vampire used the word 'companion' rather than 'pet' or 'toy' spoke volumes, and abruptly new possibilities unfolded before Valeriana's eyes.

"I did."

"That is well, then. You have many vampires out for your blood."

"I know it."

A brief silence settled, and though Valeriana had yet to look over at the Japanese vampiress she felt her assessing gaze on her.

"Do you have time for a cup of tea, Chisakura, or must you return to your companion? Your appearance suggests that you could use some centering, and some nourishment."

Valeriana weighed her options in silence for a long moment, then reached up to her earring.

"Answer me, Harry."

"…Valeriana?" a groggy voice responded, and she slid her fingertips over the cool metal wishing it was his skin.

"I will be delayed by some time. Will you be alright without food for another hour or two?" A pang of guilt struck her, but she didn't trust Akemi enough to return to her hidden apartment, and she couldn't arrange for delivery service to an address no human could find.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. What happened?"

"I have run into an old acquaintance who offers a chance for conversation. I have made many enemies this trip, and would hear what she has to say." She dared not say more than that, knowing that Akemi could likely hear their conversation, hushed though it was, and Harry seemed to follow.

"Alright then. Take care, yeah?"

"I will. Until soon, little one." Ending the conversation, she dropped her hand and turned finally to look at the woman she had once studied the tea ceremony with.

"Akemi-san," she bowed to the degree of equals. "It has been a long time."

"That it has, Chisakura-san," the round-faced woman bowed back. "Come; I know an area with humans of far more nourishing blood than the one lying there."

"It is much appreciated." Picking up the limp human without a further glance at the five speechless vampires to her left, Valeriana jumped down to the street below, depositing the man there before setting off behind Imamura Akemi. It had been a long time indeed since she'd last seen the other vampire; not since their instructor committed ritual suicide had she met with her fellow student. Back then, she had thought her too soft, too innocent for a vampire, and beneath her notice. Not that she had thought many worthy of her time, back then…

"You have changed much, these past centuries, Sakura-san," Akemi commented suddenly, casting her a curious glance as they ran. And Valeriana found her face softening in response.

"I have," she agreed, and Akemi's eyes widened before a smile dawned on her face; an unusually emotional response for a Japanese vampire, but then, she had never been your typical Japanese vampire.

"I never did think that big man suited you," she said, leaping easily from one roof to the next. "I am glad your new companion makes you happy."

Valeriana looked at her silently for a moment before asking, "Why did you not think Roerich suitable for me?"

Akemi grimaced delicately. "He treated you like an object, Sakura-san. Like a possession. I could never understand your conversations, of course," they had always spoken Russian with each other, "but his tone of voice, his gestures, the way he ensured your attention was always on him… I find that attitude is common in vampires from our era," she said with a brief glance, "and I never liked it."

Buildings sped past as Valeriana digested that. "Are you in a relationship, Akemi-san?"

The younger vampire chuckled slightly, and Valeriana wondered why. Did no one ask her that? Or was she simply surprised that Valeriana would think to ask?

"I have been in a relationship with Hayato Kazue for nearly three decades now, Sakura-san," she said, and Valeriana nearly tripped in surprise.

"Hayato Kazue?" she repeated in shock, and Akemi's eyes glinted as she grinned at her.

"She was less than pleased to be resurrected after your rampage, Chisakura-san."

"…I did not even notice her among my opponents," Valeriana replied blankly. Hayato Kazue had threatened her and Harry before their visit to Fushimi Inari-Taisha, rubbing in that Valeriana had never achieved the higher rank she had, and to hear that gentle Akemi was in a relationship with the sharp-tongued vampiress…

Akemi laughed, drawing her out of her disbelieving thoughts. "I didn't think you did; by all accounts you were quite crazed by the time you reached the estate. Kazue-chan calmed down some when I asked her how she would have reacted had I been the one taken in the place of your companion." She laughed again at Valeriana's stunned expression. "I am rather less incensed about your relationship with a human than most of our kind. I was rather prone to relationships with humans myself, in the past. Speaking of which…" she dropped down to the street below, "here is the place I spoke of. The employees here have a very healthy diet."

Valeriana eyed her for another moment before turning to the fitness studio that appeared to still be open despite the late hour. "Will you join me for this meal, Akemi-san?"

"I may have a little snack, yes," the other vampiress agreed, and they entered the building together.

OoOoO

When she returned to the apartment an hour later, it was with Akemi accompanying her.

"Harry," Valeriana called out softly, stepping into the room and finding him awake. She raised a plastic bag. "I have some food for you."

"Oh, awesome!" Harry beamed, trying to pull himself up in bed and failing. "Um. Help?"

Setting down her purchases, Valeriana moved to help him sit up. "I brought you okayu – Japanese rice porridge – and Pocari Sweat. I was informed that it is a suitable drink when one has caught a cold," she gave the plastic bag a doubtful glance but helped Harry get set up before introducing him to Akemi.

"Hajimemashite," the Japanese woman greeted with a bow, and he swayed a bow as he returned the greeting.

"We studied the art of the tea ceremony together until 1591," Valeriana explained, "and, if it would not bother you, we would use my set for a brief ceremony here."

"No, of course not," Harry said, appearing curious but not at all uncomfortable with the presence of another vampire in the room. Valeriana wondered if he was just that used to threats to his life, after everything he'd been through, or whether he truly still felt fully at ease around her kind. Since the only nightmares he had appeared to be ones revolving around other people's deaths and not threats to him, she felt he might actually be unbothered by his most recent brush with death. Unbelievable – but then, he was no normal human.

"Let me know if you need anything," she said, stooping on an impulse to press a kiss to the top of his head. He agreed bemusedly, and Valeriana led Akemi to the low table her tea things were set up on.

"It is a humble set, Akemi-san, but I would be honored if you would agree to lead the ceremony."

Akemi's eyes widened in pleased surprise. "It would be my honor, Sakura-san."

The Japanese woman had clearly continued her studies after the death of Rikyū Koji-sensei, for she brought a palpable calm to the ceremony, filling the room with tranquility the like of which Valeriana had never felt able to achieve on her own. Her emotions were too tightly controlled for that, while Akemi's flowed freely into her every action.

"That was beautiful, Akemi-chan," Valeriana bowed low at the end of the ceremony, and the other vampiress made a surprised sound at the unexpected use of the more familiar honorific.

"Thank you, Sakura-chan," she returned tentatively, beaming when Valeriana gave her a small smile. "It was an honor to use your personal set; I feel it has been much used over the years. Has your companion had the honor of using it?"

"Not yet, Akemi-chan; he has yet to learn the art of the tea ceremony. He has, however, participated in ceremonies as a guest. Not only mine, but even as a fellow guest alongside the Tsukishima heads."

Akemi gave a little gasp, hand coming up to cover her mouth. "A human was allowed to enjoy the tea ceremony alongside Tsukishima-sama-tachi? Who served the tea?"

"I had that honor," Valeriana gave a small seated bow. "Tsukishima Eiji-sama pronounced it very fine."

"Tsukishima Eiji-sama!" Akemi exclaimed. "When was this, Sakura-chan?"

"Four days before…" Valeriana trailed off, and Akemi nodded sharply.

"Four days before the incident. I confess I am surprised that they allowed your companion to be held in their estate in such a dishonorable way after they had allowed him free entry not a week before." Her voice was sharp with disapproval, and Valeriana looked away.

"Did you know that Roerich was resurrected, Akemi-chan?"

There must have been some remnant of emotion in her level question, for the other vampire rocked back on her heels. "You did not know, Sakura-chan?"

Her silence was answer enough, and the Japanese's lips went pale with anger.

"I knew I had reason to dislike the man," she said tightly. "He did not tell you? No, it is apparent that he did not. Why, that…" she trailed off, lacking the proper insults. "He took your companion?" she asked finally, and Valeriana nodded sharply.

"I would have expected the man to have more honor than that," Akemi said angrily. "You killed him, I hope?"

"Yes." Valeriana pressed her palms down against her thighs harshly. "The Tsukishimas will have resurrected him again, however. They appear to have an investment in him. How long has he been back, Akemi-chan?"

The woman shook her head, glossy hair flying out. "I don't know, Sakura-chan. A century at least. Kazue-chan would know more exactly."

Valeriana looked stonily at the tatami floor, her facial expression perfectly blank but her eyes glaring vengeance. "It matters not, Akemi-chan. A century, or two – any length of time is too long when it comes to a man deceiving his wife. That he never tried to find me is his dishonor, and that he believes to still own me is his delusion. I belong to no one but Harry and myself."

"Well said, Sakura-chan. I know there is no love lost between you and Kazue-chan, but if you should need my assistance, you have only to call."

Valeriana looked up at that, and found Akemi's gaze intent on her.

"You have had too few people on your side, I think, Sakura-chan. I would be honored to be counted among the few."

Silence fell, and Valeriana swallowed hard. "Two," she managed finally, knowing she would not draw any of Harry's friends into this mess. "You would be the second on my side."

"Then I consider it an honor to stand with a human, Chisakura-chan."

OoOoO

"That looked friendly," Harry commented with a smile after Valeriana had seen Akemi out. He looked comfortable in the big bed, hair tousled and face less pale after the meal.

"…It was," Valeriana said, still somewhat bewildered by Akemi's support. "I did not think much of her, before. She was too emotional."

Harry chuckled. "Well, I liked her." He burrowed back slightly into the pillows supporting him. "Oh, I've been meaning to ask – why do people call you 'Sakura' here?"

The vampiress sank into the chair by his bedside. How she had gained the name 'Sakura'…

"Do you remember the haiku Hayato Kazue quoted when we met her?" she asked. "'Sakura in flight / Delicate beauty of night / The red blood of death'." Valeriana dragged a fingertip along the wood of her chair. "I do not know who originated it, but it was created to describe me. From that, I gained the name 'Chimamire no Sakura' – The Bloody Cherry Blossom. It is abbreviated to 'Chisakura', and from there to 'Sakura'. Before long, all vampires here knew me by that name."

"Huh," Harry huffed, and she looked up to meet his gaze. "Do you like it?"

She mulled over that question briefly, then said, "I am indifferent to it. In the beginning, it was recognition. Then, a reputation. Now, it is simply a name."

Harry hummed, then asked unexpectedly, "Who was the vampire who liked your name? Valeriana, I mean, not Sakura?"

Valeriana was briefly reminded of a summer night walking with this young human, explaining the meaning behind her given name, and quirked a tiny smile. "The vampire who turned me. He was Cyprese, I believe I mentioned before. He found me… amusing."

"That's why he turned you?" Harry asked, giving her an odd look, and she shrugged.

"He wanted to keep me around. Amusement is a good enough reason, when you've lived as long as some of us have."

"…Fair enough, I suppose. What happened to him?" At her askance look he said, "I don't get the impression that he's around anymore. You said he _was_ Cyprese."

Valeriana nodded slowly. "He was… destroyed by another vampire. I barely escaped with my life – or lack thereof – and hid for the next two decades. I have mentioned vampiric hierarchy before," she explained, noticing his shock, "but I do not believe I mentioned the rules of the creation of new vampires. Each new vampire has to be the responsibility of a senior vampire, and a newly created vampire without a guardian is summarily executed. My senior was killed only five years after my creation, so by vampiric law I should have died, or found a new guardian before I could be executed. A vampire ceases to be a new creation after five decades, and I had not reached even one yet. So, as I knew that there was at least one vampire in the region who knew of me, I hid until I thought even his interest would have waned, then moved and lay low as a maid and other inconspicuous roles until five decades had passed.

"It was hard," she admitted, "for I had not yet gained a true immortal's sense of immortality, and knew only the displeasure of being forced to move every decade or so for fear of an adverse reaction to my enduring appearance of youth, and the frustration of doing menial tasks when I had tasted the joy of education under my creator. Each time I moved, however, I took on a new job, and after the third move I took on the role of private tutor, which was fulfilling in ways I had not expected." She found herself smiling at the memory of that time, and of the two children she had tutored.

"After that, I began to make my way across the continent, eventually reaching Japan and remaining there." Valeriana shook her head slightly. "I did not cross the continent as quickly as I suggested to Miss Granger, instead continuing as I had in Italy – moving every few years, sometimes to a new country, and sometimes simply to a new city. It was only a century and a half after setting out from Italy that I reached Japan."

"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed, taken aback. "A century and a half!"

Valeriana couldn't stifle a chuckle at his shock. "I remained in Japan for over two centuries after that, little one. Surely you haven't forgotten that I am over 6 centuries old?"

"Er… no?" he ventured. "It just… what did you _do_ in all that time?"

She shrugged minutely. "Studied… Learned… Lived, really. I passed as a human, only very rarely interacting with other vampires, until I reached Japan and became part of the Tsukishima coven. It was… difficult, sometimes, to move on from one place. Passing as a human, I could find companions, friends… even lovers, occasionally." Her gaze dipped to the plain white covers, following the wrinkles with her eyes. "When I reached Japan, and found a man who, like me, couldn't die…" she trailed off, remembering her euphoria at meeting a man who immediately knew what she was and declared his intent for her to be his forever… Others had promised her forever before, but they had been human and Valeriana had never allowed herself to seriously consider turning someone, so she had always smiled and moved on to the next city. Meeting Roerich, falling in love…

"What did he do to change you?"

The unexpected question caught her off guard, and she looked up with a startled expression. "Excuse me?"

"Roerich," Harry answered, his brow furrowed. "It sounds like you were young, adventurous, open to new experiences and friendships. But then you met Roerich… and all the vampires I've met here so far seem to have known you only as a silent and emotionless person. What changed?"

Valeriana was lost for words. She had never considered what had changed her into the reserved and cold person she had become, having thought it simply the inevitable result of immortality, and perhaps the exposure to Japan's more reserved culture. But speaking with Akemi today, a vampire only a decade younger than she, who was Japanese and immortal and yet so vibrant and cheerful…

Valeriana swallowed. Had it not been vampirism? Had it been Roerich that had changed her into an unfeeling shell, and not her life, her location, or her profession? She bit her lip. No, it couldn't have been her profession, for she'd entered it alongside Roerich and had already felt nothing at the thought of death by her own hands then. Had reveled in the power over other people's lives.

When had Roerich become the only person that mattered to her?

Looking up, she met Harry's concerned gaze with a lost one of her own.

"I don't know."

OoOoO

That question plagued her for days after that, haunting the time Harry needed to regain his strength, disturbing the nights she spent by his side.

"When did I learn to enjoy bloodshed?" she whispered to the dark ceiling, Harry's body warm against her side. "How did I come to revel in the slide of metal through flesh and bone?"

But the only answer that came whispered back from her own traitorous lips was "Roerich…"

He had taught her to fight, taught her to view humans as nothing, view even other vampires as inferior if she could beat and kill them; his praise in swift kills, his fierce pride in her ruthlessness pushing her to new heights of detachment, his approval the only thing that mattered, his love the only thing she craved…

Had it really been love? she wondered numbly. Or had it just been cold manipulation, an innocent to be taken and shaped and changed to his liking, then discarded when he tired of her? How could he have loved her and yet turned her into an entirely different person, then moved on with his life without even giving her a second thought..?

Valeriana shivered, turning to bury her face in Harry's unruly hair. He smelled like love and comfort and acceptance, all the things she had associated with Roerich before his death and now was questioning for the first time in her life. Had the first person she had wanted to be with forever just used her? It was too horrifying to consider, and yet Valeriana forced herself to dwell on it. Dwell on the possibility that her husband had never cared for her at all.

OoOoO

The only good thing about that time of recuperation, Valeriana found, was that Harry made it abundantly clear that he wasn't going to leave her, regardless of the danger her presence brought him.

"Valeriana," he'd said exasperatedly when he'd realized what she was afraid of. "I used to keep others at arms' length because I was afraid they'd be hurt by my enemies. You helped me defeat mine; I'm not about to run away just because yours are threatening me. Besides," he'd rolled his eyes, then huffed a laugh, "it's a bit late to be worrying about that now, isn't it? You're stuck with me, missy," he'd said, actually poking her chest with his pointer finger, "so you better resign yourself to that."

She'd laughed aloud in relief, pulling him in for a kiss by that prodding finger. "But if you ever want to leave," she'd said against his lips, and he'd scoffed.

"Yeah, right."

And despite his disbelieving remark and fierce kiss, she knew that if it ever came to that, he would tell her rather than simply walking away.

OoOoO

"Alright, that was pathetic," Harry panted from the floor where he'd just tried to do a set of sit-ups. "Say, can we go get me a new wand soon? I'm useless without one and you know it."

Valeriana sighed, hating that his wand was either destroyed or in some vampire's possession, and crouched down next to him.

"Yes. You will have to subject to my skill with disguises before I let you out of this apartment, however."

"Ooh, do I get a wig?" Harry asked, sitting upright and immediately swaying. "Ugh, blackout…"

"If you wish," Valeriana said, steadying her foolish companion. Humans are so impatient, she thought fondly.

"Can I wear the red one?"

"No," Valeriana vetoed immediately. "The point is to hide you in plain sight, not have you become even more noticeable. The black wig with the natural Asian hair is the only logical choice."

"How are the wigs even in good condition anymore?" Harry asked instead of pouting as she had expected him to. "Haven't they stood here for over two centuries now?"

"Magic," the vampire answered drily. "Or have you forgotten you're a wizard?"

"Funny," the young man grumbled, pulling himself to his feet and grinning at her. "Now?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh, fine," he conceded good-naturedly. "Spar with me, then."

"Oh, dear," she sighed, and he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Yeah, yeah. Come spar with the weak little human," the wizard tossed the katana to her, and she abruptly froze, staring at the blade in her hand. "Oh, bugger. I'd forgotten these were Roerich's."

Gentle hands took the weapon away from her. "Here. We'll get rid of them, if you'd like – I'm sure we can sell them or something. He'd probably be livid to find them in the possession of a human merchant," Harry laughed, pressing one of her twin katanas in her hand in Roerich's katana's stead. "Will you be okay if I use his wakizashi for now, though? I don't see another one here…"

She found herself quite unable to answer, and Harry's concerned face suddenly appeared directly in front of her, his palm lightly patting her cheek.

"Hey. You okay? Come on, snap out of it."

She blinked, taking a startled step back, and he nodded briskly though his green eyes remained concerned.

"Alright then. Tomorrow we'll get me a new wand and wakizashi, okay? Maybe Akemi-san will know where to get one."

"Hayato is more likely to know," Valeriana answered numbly, going to place her katana back in its holder. "Perhaps I will include it in my missive."

"Would you like to write that now, then?"

"I think I would."

"Okay then. Let's see, where are the things…" Harry muttered, rifling around her drawers for quill and parchment.

"You won't find what you are looking for." She walked over and pulled out brush and ink. "What shall I say? Ask if it would be convenient for her to meet us tomorrow, and to ask Hayato-san for advice on suitable blades, I suppose." She hesitated, smoothing her chosen paper flat on the surface of the table. "Perhaps an invitation for Hayato-san to join us if she wishes it. I do not trust the woman as far as I can throw her, but if Akemi-chan wants to be both my friend and her lover, it would surely not hurt to extend an apology for killing the woman."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, startled. "They're lovers? And when did you kill her?"

"She was in my way when they took you," Valeriana answered flatly. "I did not even notice her, but Akemi said she was less than pleased at being resurrected. And apparently they have been in a relationship for nearly three decades now." She shook her head, sitting down to write her letter. "I cannot see what she sees in the woman, but then again Hayato-san is likely incapable of seeing what I see in you. There is balance in everything."

OoOoO

"Sakura-chan!" Akemi greeted them with a wave and a little bow for Harry. Both of them were disguised, but Sakura was such a common name in Japan that Valeriana hadn't bothered to ask Akemi to use another name for her.

"Akemi-chan," Valeriana bowed slightly, then gave the woman's companion a deeper bow. "Hayato-san. I wished to apologize for killing you some days past."

The vampiress gave a sharply correct bow. "Your apology is accepted, Chisakura-san." Her eyes flicked to Harry. "I did not realize how much the boy meant to you."

Valeriana simply bowed silently, and Harry tendered his own greetings.

"Akemi-san, ohay _ō_ gozaimasu; Hayato-san, hajimemashite." His British accent was clearly audible, but Valeriana appreciated that he'd gone to the effort to learn basic Japanese phrases. With time, his accent might improve.

"Hajimemashite," the swordswoman replied; Akemi returned his good morning.

"Hari-san wa nihongo ga hanashimasuka?"

"Chotto… ah…" Harry floundered, trying to answer that he only knew a little Japanese, and Valeriana took over.

"Hari chotto dake nihongo hanasu," Valeriana replied for him, the informal words rolling easily off her tongue. "Akemi-chan eigo hanaseru no?"

"Aaa, hanasanai…"

"So neither of us speaks the language of the other?" Harry asked with an amused chuckle that Valeriana echoed, to Hayato's visible surprise.

"Correct. Hayato-san speaks English, however, and we will certainly be able to translate for the two of you."

"That's a relief," he grinned at her, and she allowed herself a tender smile and brief caress to the wig covering his distinctive hair.

"You will forgive me for speaking mainly Japanese, I hope?"

Harry huffed. "Of course. What kind of question is that?"

Valeriana turned to Akemi to comment on his obstinate nature with an exaggerated nod in his direction, and Harry exclaimed, "Oy!" indignantly, perfectly aware that she had just said something about him he couldn't understand. Akemi giggled, and Hayato's jaw dropped open at Valeriana's answering laughter.

"Come, Sakura-chan," Akemi grinned, looping her arm through Valeriana's and tugging her down the street. "Let's go shopping!"

"Let's," the vampiress agreed, feeling more lighthearted than she had in a long time. Walking down the street, one hand in her lover's and the other arm looped through a friend's, was something she hadn't expected to experience again. That they had someone to guard their backs, if only because of a potential threat to Akemi-chan, allowed her to relax enough to enjoy the sunshine despite its slow burn, and she found herself in a buoyant mood as they headed to the magical district. Perhaps she'd stop by the apothecary and buy some of the store's more expensive potions; after all, the potions she had previously bought there had saved Harry's life. If that wasn't worth some largesse, she didn't know what was.

OoOoO

"This reminds me of Diagon Alley," Harry laughed when they stopped for kakigōri, his new wand secure in a holster on his arm. At Valeriana's incredulous look he grinned sheepishly and elaborated, "Well, not the décor or the people or anything – I just mean walking around, buying things, and sitting down for ice cream. Kakigōri, here. I spent one whole summer in Diagon Alley a while ago, actually," he laughed, stirring his shaved ice with the plastic spoon. "That was when I blew up my aunt and ran away from Privet Drive."

"You blew up your aunt?"

Harry blinked in surprise, not having expected Hayato to be the one to ask, but answered, "Well, she was insulting my parents – as always," he muttered darkly in an aside, "and they put her back to rights afterwards anyway. Obliviated her, too, though of course they didn't obliviate the rest of the Dursleys." He stabbed his ice with a scowl. "And she only blew up like a balloon; it's not like she exploded or anything…"

"A shame," Valeriana commented drily, and Harry nodded viciously.

Then he sighed, spooning a mouthful of flavored ice into his mouth. "It was a good summer, at least. I got to eat a lot of ice cream," he grinned at Valeriana, whose lips twitched.

"That is fortunate indeed."

Hayato was still giving him an odd look, but Akemi was blissfully unaware of the conversation and asked brightly, "Where to next, Sakura-chan?"

"I do not believe we require anything else from the wizarding district," Valeriana replied, having already purchased a number of potions – most of them for Harry – and his new wand, "so if Hayato-san knows of a good weapon smith," she nodded respectfully in the swordswoman's direction, "then we might go there."

The petite vampiress gave her an inscrutable look. "The swordsmith I would recommend is one you must know yourself, Sakura-san. Masamune-sama continues to be Japan's premier swordsmith."

"But would he consent to sell one of his masterpieces to the mortal protégé of Chimamire no Sakura, that is the question," Valeriana said softly, to which Hayato cocked her head.

"If one does not ask, the answer is always no, Sakura-san. What does one lose by asking?"

Valeriana closed her eyes. "Have you met Masamune-sama, Hayato-san?"

"I have not had the honor. Why?"

"I did, once." She opened her eyes again, her gaze resting on Harry despite his inability to understand her. "Well. I have changed in the past two centuries. Let us see how the great master sees me now."

OoOoO

They didn't delay, after that, and not a half hour later they stood before Japan's most famous swordsmith. He hadn't been turned until the age of sixty, and his hair was a shining silver that no human could hope to match by natural means, his face intricately lined and beady eyes sharp.

"Chimamire no Sakura." His eyes bored into hers, and she bowed low not only out of respect but of the abrupt wish to evade his gaze.

"Masamune-same. It is an honor to stand before you once more."

"Is it?" the old voice was dry, and Valeriana mused at how young she felt before him even though the age gap was not even a century. Only half a century, if one didn't count their human age in addition to the vampiric one. "You did not seem so honored when you last left me, Chisakura-chan."

"I have changed much in these past few centuries, Sensei. This time it is not I who comes to ask you for a sword, Masamune-sama, but it is I who would apologize for my rudeness when I last came to you."

Her head was still bowed, but she felt the weight of his gaze like a beam of sunlight on her scalp until long after he spoke again.

"And yet I hear that your most recent act in our illustrious city was to use blade, body and magic to clear an entire coven."

"With nothing but the utmost respect, great Masamune-sama, I must disclaim that they had taken something that was mine to protect. It is with this wish that I come to you today."

"…Elaborate."

Finally she straightened out of her deep bow, gesturing respectfully at Harry. "My companion, Harry Potter, is a young British wizard who has been learning the use of the wakizashi. He knows but the basics, still, but is sincere in his wish to master the art. I brought him to Kyoto to introduce him to the country I so love, but I have many enemies who thought that to harm him would be to harm me." She faltered, the sight of Roerich feeding from Harry superimposing itself over her vision for a split-second. "They are not incorrect in that assumption," she continued flatly. "I would rest more easily with the knowledge that he has a means to defend himself with."

The keen gaze of the old vampire took in first her, then Harry.

"Will your young companion's first line of defense not be his magic, Chisakura-chan? What need has he for a true blade when any piece of metal would suffice?"

Valeriana's head twitched involuntarily in contradiction. "Masamune-sama, it is true that his magic will come more naturally to him than anything else for many years to come, but one must lay a strong foundation if one wishes to build something outstanding. I have only recently come to see how damaging my own beginnings were, and I do not wish to taint my companion with the same ideology. I feel that only with a blade of such pure intentions as yours, Masamune-sensei, could the appropriate foundation be laid."

An assessing pause. Then, "What blade has he been learning with so far, Chisakura-chan?"

"He has so far only had the misfortune to learn with the blade of Petrov Roerich," she answered reluctantly, and the man hissed, a sudden scowl pinching his expression.

"You would put such a weapon of murder in the hands of an innocent?"

Valeriana closed her eyes. "I was blind to my former husband's true nature until just recently, great Master," she said, striving to keep all emotion out of her voice and acutely aware of the three presences behind her. "Harry did put the wakizashi to extremely honorable use by wielding it to defeat the Dark Lord terrorizing Great Britain. In the hands of a truly righteous man, even such a stained blade might achieve feats of great worth."

"In the hands of a truly righteous man, might a stained soul also regain its innate worth?" the smith said, and Valeriana opened her eyes to meet his squarely for the first time.

"I begin to believe that it might."

The old man held her gaze unblinkingly for a full minute before inclining his head. "Then let us see whether I have any swords suitable for the hands of such a man."

OoOoO

When they left, it was with a matching set of katana and wakizashi, exquisitely crafted and worth a fortune that Valeriana hadn't let Harry spend.

"Please," had been all she'd needed to say to make him cave, the money she had amassed over centuries more than sufficient to cover even the exorbitant price a set of Masamune swords commanded.

"Will you be wanting a sword as well, Chisakura-chan?" the master had asked, his expression unreadable, and she had demurred politely, but earnestly.

"I have a long path to walk still before I believe myself worthy of wielding one of your swords, Masamune-sama. Perhaps one day I will present myself before you once more, and I hope that on that day you will not find me unworthy."

"We will see, Chisakura-chan. Guide your companion well, and you might someday find yourself worthy of the title 'teacher of teachers'."

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Valeriana had responded with a long bow before leading her group out of the swordsmith's workshop and into the light of dusk.

"I find myself filled with hope after that exchange, Sakura-chan," Akemi said, a numinous smile on her face as she gazed into the sky. "Truly Masamune-sama is a great master."

Valeriana nodded in silent assent, and it was Harry who broke the deep silence that fell over them.

"You'll need to feed, won't you?"

The vampires all turned to him, and he blushed abruptly. "I mean… it was really sunny today, and didn't you mention that exposure to sunlight needs more frequent feeding? It's been a day or two already, so…"

Valeriana snorted in restrained amusement. "Correct. Will you accompany us?"

Hayato seemed shocked at the question, but Harry nodded. "Unless you'd rather I didn't, of course."

"I have no objections. Hayato-san, Akemi-chan, would you be averse to Harry joining us on our hunt?" she asked in Japanese. Akemi blinked her surprise but said she wouldn't mind, and though Hayato expressed her doubt at a human being able to keep up she agreed that in theory she had no issue with it.

"Alright then," Harry nodded, the first spell he cast with his new wand the Acceleratur Motus. "Let's go!" And with a mischievous grin he launched himself into the air, Valeriana a breath behind him while the other two gaped in surprise.

"How-?"

"Magic!" Harry called back gleefully. "Come on!"

And the two Japanese vampiresses launched themselves into the air for the most unusual hunt of their lives.

OoOoO

Valeriana let her second victim sink to the ground with a contented hum. It was probably all in her mind, but she felt like Japanese blood was somehow finer than most other nationalities.

"Hey, Valeriana?"

She turned slightly to take in the sight of Harry sitting on the edge of the building, legs dangling off the side, and wondered whether he was facing away because he didn't want to watch or because he wanted to keep a look out.

"Yes, little one?"

"What about the Tsukishima?"

Her lips drew back in a snarl, but she didn't let it show in her voice. "What about them?"

Harry looked over then, seemingly unfazed by her bloody fangs. "Well, we did send them a letter saying we'd stop by in a week to make our farewells. That was over two weeks ago now, wasn't it?"

"I feel no need to show respect to those who would capture and kill my lover," Valeriana snarled, and Harry nodded.

"Then there's just Roerich left to deal with, right? Can I call him out?"

Valeriana's heart stuttered, and she was suddenly acutely aware of Akemi and Hayato's incredulous stares. "Call him out?"

"Well, yeah," Harry shrugged. "He wants to kill me, and just waiting around for him to dictate the time and place seems really stupid. That's what we did for years against Voldemort, then you came and took things in hand and we finished him in a few minutes." He shrugged again. "If I have to fight against a vampire, I'd like to be prepared."

"How do you expect to beat a vampire, human?" Hayato asked, shock, disbelief, and disdain mingling in her voice. "It is impossible."

Harry snorted and swung to his feet, wand in hand and a blue glow already enveloping him. "Try me."

A pause, then Hayato launched herself at him. "You're not the only one with magic, human!"

Akemi giggled, and despite her worry Valeriana couldn't hold back a snort. "You are the only one without magic here, Hayato-san."

The vampiress tripped. "Chisakura!" she whirled furiously, and Valeriana laughed.

"You already accepted my apology, Hayato-san." A resurrected vampire was returned to their original state, so anything gained since they were turned – magic, physical strength, any other boost – was lost. The swordswoman had never put her focus on magic, but one does accumulate some after a few centuries, and it would be a foolish person indeed who didn't learn to use it to their advantage.

Hayato bared her fangs, about to retort something when a white beam of light hit her back.

"A Stinging Jinx," Harry informed the furious vampire when she turned back to him. "If you're not going to pay attention…"

She lunged at him and he bounded away, tossing three stunners at her, all of which she deflected with the sword she suddenly held.

"Cool," the wizard grinned, sending an Expelliarmus her way and visibly disappointed when she deflected that one, too, losing her sword in the process. Akemi caught the blade with a surprised laugh.

"I didn't think you'd fall for that one," Harry said, leaping away from his opponent with another stunner that she dodged. "It's pretty much the most common spell there is."

Valeriana snorted. "Most wizards are too terrified of us to get any spell off, let alone disarm their opponent, little one. It was a good spell to have chosen."

"Thanks," he grinned, and went on the offense. A blasting hex ripped open the roof at Hayato's feet, and when she jumped away he hit her with an Incarcerous and stunned the bound vampiress, wincing when she fell to the roof with a thud.

"Oops. I hope that didn't hurt." He frowned over at his bound opponent. "That was way too easy."

Valeriana shrugged. "Vampire magic is different from human magic, Harry, and few vampires have any experience fighting against wizards. Nor do most wizards have your past. I am unsurprised at the result."

Hayato abruptly twitched, then she was on her feet, daggers glinting in her fists and ropes falling to the roof. "Fucking human," she snarled in Japanese, and Valeriana idly inspected her nails as Hayato launched at him once more.

"Yes, he is rather good at it."

Akemi giggled, but neither Hayato nor Harry noticed; not that the latter would have understood the Japanese comment anyway, though Valeriana didn't doubt he'd have blushed a spectacular red had he understood it.

They were still at it a quarter hour later, and had Harry not dropped some Notice-Me-Not charms while he was at it they'd have gathered an impressive crowd. Hayato was no closer to getting her hands on him, but fifteen minutes was a long time for a human, so Valeriana clapped her hands loudly.

"Alright, enough," she said, startling the fighters. "It was an enjoyable day, Akemi-chan, Hayato-san," Valeriana bowed to both of them, and though Hayato looked less than pleased she bowed in return. "Make your farewells, Harry."

He did, shooting Hayato a cocky grin that she answered with a full set of fangs, and they set off in the direction of her apartment. Once they were a few houses away Valeriana smiled at the human bounding beside her and reached out a hand to stroke over his wig.

"That was very well done, my light."

Harry beamed up at her, and she admitted to herself that she felt much better about his chances against Roerich now. Hayato hadn't been much of an opponent for the young wizard, but she had been good target practice.

OoOoO

They practiced, after that, covering the roof of her apartment block with spells to remove notice from them before dueling in a way they hadn't before: Using spells, potions, and weapons. They soon realized that it was hard for a wizard to do much against a vampire with high magic, as Valeriana could easily flick aside the bolts of light with her own powers – but the use of magic was far more draining for her, and she ran out of juice swiftly. Several matches ended because of her ability to close in quickly, and Harry's spellcasting sped up due to the need to box her in. It was easy for her to dodge single spells, but harder to evade a cluster of them.

Explosive potions were a fun addition to their matches, the roof protected from serious harm by a blanket of spells, and Valeriana enjoyed the opportunity to refamiliarize herself with weapons long abandoned. Using her whip to jerk Harry's wand from his hand was rather entertaining, but to her equal appreciation and disappointment he didn't fall for it a second time.

Knowing Roerich couldn't find her apartment – she had never revealed it to him, though he'd been furious at the time – they spent a full week fighting, relaxing, and going out in a variety of disguises. She was gratified that rather than bristling at the inconvenience Harry seemed to find it exciting to hide his true appearance. She did let him wear the red wig, once, but only when they took a train to Tokyo and visited the eclectic Harajuku district. He didn't stand out, there, despite the long wig.

"Ria, look!"

She turned; Valeriana was too obvious a name so they had agreed on the nickname whenever they went out. There stood Harry, posing with a wide sunhat and a winning grin.

Valeriana snorted a laugh. "Very cute, Hikaru."

"Isn't it just?" There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "I was thinking of getting it."

"Then you must get this to go with it," Valeriana swept up, pulling a blue sundress from the rack beside him and holding it up to his body. "It is fortunate you are not as tall as your friend Ronald. He would have a difficult time shopping in Japan."

Harry laughed. "I'll need some cute sandals to go with the outfit," he challenged, and Valeriana nodded with a straight face. She was fairly sure he was just trying to get a reaction out of her, and she was far more experienced at this game than he.

"Of course. We passed by a suitable store some minutes back; let us first purchase these," she plucked the sunhat from his head and swept into the shop, his laughter following her. When she reappeared with a bag and placed the hat back on his head, however, he gaped at her.

"Wait, you really got them?"

"Certainly. I look forward to seeing you in the dress." Keeping a straight face as she moved away was surprisingly hard. "Perhaps we should look for a corset after purchasing suitable shoes; your waist is perhaps a bit wide for the dress."

"Don't you have corsets?" came his choked question, and she raised an eyebrow at him. His face was interestingly blushed.

"Men's corsets differ from women's," she said blandly. "But I suppose, in a pinch, we might use my underbust corset."

Anyone wanting to see how red a face could go would only have needed a glance at Harry in that moment.

OoOoO

When they returned to Kyoto, a grim-faced Hayato stood waiting for them.

"Chisakura-san."

Valeriana stiffened. Hayato hadn't called her anything but Sakura since she had accepted her apology for killing her, and for her to use the more... bloody... name didn't bode well.

"I have been charged with conveying this to you," the Japanese vampire said, offering a white box with both hands and a bow.

"Charged by whom?" Valeriana asked warily, not yet moving to accept the box.

Impatient brown eyes looked up at her. "The Tsukishima."

Valeriana hissed. "What is it?"

"The box?" Hayato straightened with a scowl, already fed up with holding the bow. "How would I know? Tsukishima Chie-sama instructed me to give it to you to watch with your... companion." That she clearly had to substitute that for another word only further soured Valeriana's mood. "Will you take it, or not?"

"Fine." Valeriana blanked her expression, angry but still too wary to touch an unknown item. "Place it on the ground. Harry?"

As soon as Hayato set it on the ground Harry had his wand out, casting identification spells at it, but he shook his head only a few moments later.

"Whatever it is, it comes up clean."

Valeriana nodded, not having expected it to be magicked, but there was every possibility it could be an explosive or similarly deadly item.

"Hayato-san, would you say no if I asked you to resurrect me should this item prove fatal?"

Beside her Harry sucked in a breath, but her gaze was on the other vampire.

"...No," the Japanese conceded grumpily, and Valeriana nodded.

"Thank you. Harry, please join her on the next building over as I open this."

He appeared about to protest, but Hayato smoothly picked him up and jumped to the next roof; Valeriana could see her smirk at Harry's indignant exclamation. Once she knew him safe, Valeriana didn't hesitate to bend over and open the box, revealing what she had come to learn was a digital tablet – and an envelope with her formal Japanese name on it. In it was a note that read simply, "A souvenir of your visit to Kyoto", and Valeriana felt a shiver of foreboding. Placing the note back in the box, she picked up the tablet, unlocked it and found a video on the screen. Pressing play showed it to be a strangely angled view of the entrance to the Tsukishima compound – and as a figure flew over the tall gates Valeriana realized with a shock that it was footage from a security camera. She had never considered modern technology in the hands of vampires, and the long dormant assassin within her wondered tensely how else she might have miscalculated.

A muted "Whoa" as figures spilled into the courtyard alerted her that Harry had joined her, and her blood ran cold. The tablet was unlikely to offer harm, but she was abruptly aware that he had only once seen her kill, and certainly had never seen her in the killing rage the grainy video showed as she slaughtered the vampires blocking her way. Limbs flew, blood sprayed, and though Valeriana knew there were violent films she was equally certain that Harry had never seen any of them, and was for the first time being confronted with such violence. He wasn't an innocent – he had been in dangerous situations himself, even killed before – but must never have witnessed slaughter on this level.

For that was what it was, the defending vampires nearly helpless against a trained killer blind and mad with rage, armed to the teeth and focused only on reaching the heart of the compound regardless of the cost; minor wounds didn't cause a second's hesitation, serious blows never landed as she moved with a speed the cameras only picked up as a blur.

Her speed and ruthlessness took away even her breath, for Valeriana had never seen herself fight and had never truly realized the extent of her skill, but here was undeniable proof that she was deadly even for her kind. Part of her shuddered – but a larger part of her, the one that had discovered fighting to be an aspect of her true nature, felt a thrill of pride that she could be capable of such a feat.

Immediately on the heels of that realization came fear as shocking as a plunge into icy water: For what would Harry think upon finding out that his companion could murder a hundred people with no qualms, and would do so if they stood between her and him? Most humans would think the force of her wrath excessive, be afraid of her violence, fear what her lack of concern for the value of life might mean; Harry himself had great concern for the lives of others, and even against a madman and his followers had spared as many as he could. Valeriana feared what that might mean for her.

She found herself afraid to look at him as he watched the carnage she was capable of, the human silent beside her until the camera changed to show an inner room and he gasped upon realizing that the little figure hanging limply in Roerich's arms was him.

Then Valeriana burst into the room, faltering not at all before she struck, Roerich's head flying and her horror clear as she bent to gather Harry into her arms; then she was gone, a red blur almost too quick for the camera to capture, the image switching back between previously shown views until it stopped on a blood-splattered courtyard filled with corpses: The entrance to the compound. Her blood-soaked figure cleared it in two bounds, vaulted over the gate and disappeared into the city, leaving behind a gutted estate and more enemies than she could count.

The video ended.

A heartbeat, then: "God," Harry exhaled explosively. "Will they be after you now? I can't imagine none of them will hold a grudge." His voice boggled with shock. "And the Tsukishima won't just let you go after destroying their estate, will they? I can't believe we weren't attacked at all these past few days! There should be people trying to kill you left and right after all that! God, I can't even wrap my mind around it," he said faintly. "Are they all on Roerich's side?" Suddenly he shuddered, leaning into her. "Now I know why you were so scared, though: I really looked dead, didn't I?" He shuddered again, and Valeriana didn't even think about it before pulling him into an embrace he burrowed into.

"Thank you, so much," he said against her shoulder, and incongruously she wondered if he thought it strange she would wear a sweater in summer. "That was... well. I have no words. But thank you; I would have died if you hadn't gotten there in time, and I'm sure I nearly died anyway, and I don't know how you feel about killing all those people but they were all vampires, right? So they were revived like Hayato-san?" She wasn't sure if he sounded hopeful for them, or for her conscience. His calm reaction to such carnage made more sense if he thought her enemies had come out of it alive, however.

"Not all," Valeriana found herself answering honestly, though she desperately wanted to lie. "One room I blew up, and those vampires will have been too... intermingled... to resurrect. The rest, however, will undoubtedly have been revived, and may hold grudges. It is possible they may not; my attack was provoked, their deaths of their own choice, and they must know they stand no chance of besting me. The Tsukishima, however..."

Harry's arms tightened around her. "You think they'll cause problems?"

Valeriana sighed, tangling one hand in his hair and letting his scent calm her. "Possibly. It is hard to judge; they did not interfere directly with this matter, but Roerich is of more value to them than I and they will, if it does not inconvenience them, stay out of his way. I suspect that they will not seek reparations of their own." The video was an interesting touch, however; Valeriana almost thought it a nod to her skill, and a return gift to offset the one she had given them during her first visit. It was something a warrior would appreciate.

"So it's just Roerich that's the problem? If we take him out of the picture, you're safe?"

"...I believe so."

"Good," Harry said, drawing away to meet her eyes. "Then let's send him a challenge; we'll figure out where and when to do it, and I'll be ready. I like Japan, but I do hope the next time we come will be less eventful!" His crooked grin was inviting, and Valeriana allowed her face to soften in relief.

"Perhaps we will visit the countryside, next time. There should be fewer vampires there."

"Sounds good," Harry laughed. Valeriana couldn't resist leaning in for a kiss; how blessed was she to have found Harry? Any sensible human would have turned tail and run, but Harry just wrote off all the recent troubles and his own near-death as "eventful". What a unique man.

"If we're quite done now," Hayato's snarky voice intruded on her peaceful moment, "might we get on with things? You should write a reply, Sakura-san, and Akemi-chan invites you both to dinner, so hurry up. Quick, quick," she clapped impatiently, and Valeriana stifled a vexed snarl while Harry stifled laughter.

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner," Hayato said shortly. "Don't worry, little human; we will provide you with suitable food while we enjoy something more… refined. We do not always take our meals straight from the source, I am sure you know."

Valeriana's lips twitched, remembering vials Harry hat sent her by owl last year, and he blushed.

"Yes, I do know," he said with as much dignity as he could, and refused to elaborate when Hayato prodded him for information.

"Dinner?" Valeriana prompted finally, and Hayato stopped needling Harry. Wasn't that a sight to see, though: The sharp-tongued, harsh vampiress teasing a human? Even if it was still rather sharp, but that didn't seem to faze Harry.

"Dinner," Hayato agreed. "Here is the address; the name on the bell is 'Ishikawa'. We will expect you in one hour." Then she turned, her form outlined against the setting sun as she pointed. "It is in that direction. I trust you will find it?"

"Certainly," Valeriana replied drily. "We were not born yesterday, Hayato-san."

"You could have fooled me," the vampire snarked, then jumped away without leaving them time for a reply. Valeriana snorted.

"What an overbearing person. How Akemi-chan puts up with her is beyond me."

"Oh, I don't know; I quite like her," Harry laughed, slipping a hand in hers. "You need to write a reply for that, right?" he nodded at the tablet in her hand, and she bent to place it back in its box.

"I do, but tomorrow will be soon enough for that. What we need to do now," she straightened, "is find a gift for Akemi-chan. And Hayato-san," she added reluctantly.

Harry brightened. "What kind of present?"

Valeriana hummed, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. "That is the question. For humans, the best gift is something edible, so that the gift might not sit around unused, but for vampires... Rare or particularly delicious blood is always appreciated, but there is little else that a vampire cannot or has not acquired over the years. Small tokens – art, jewelry, other things of value – are thoughtful gifts, but over several centuries have a habit of accumulating past the point of absurdity." She paused. "For Akemi-chan, something related to the tea ceremony would be fitting, but she must have more than one tea set already, and likely has a particular brand of tea she prefers... flowers may be a good choice; she once had an interest in ikebana – flower arrangement – but that was some time ago..." she trailed off, and Harry cocked his head at her.

"It sounds like blood would be the safest choice, then."

Valeriana couldn't make out his thoughts on the matter; his tone was matter-of-fact, so she replied in kind.

"Safest, certainly; we do require it to survive. The complication, however, lies in the choice of... donor, shall we say."

Harry chuckled. "Well, can I offer?" At the shock she couldn't stifle he shrugged, "I'm a guest as well, and then we don't have to go running around trying to find someone suitable. I've been told I'm somewhat special," he smiled crookedly, then laughed and tugged at her. "Besides, I'm tired already and the sunset is gorgeous; let's just relax and enjoy it." He smiled winningly at her, and Valeriana slowly shook her head.

"Only you, Harry, could offer your blood to a vampire after nearly dying by one. Have you no sense of self-preservation?"

She was honestly baffled, but he just laughed.

OoOoO

The conversation over dinner was interesting, Harry curious enough to ask and Akemi taken enough with the young human to recount her life story. She had been turned some 600 years before by a courtesan who had taken a particular liking to the soft-voiced commoner and spirited her away from the hardship of her poor rural life, teaching her the intricacies of the court for several years before deciding her ready to become one of them. They had remained lovers for nearly a century before the elder had fallen in the Ōnin War, around 1470; Akemi had taken other lovers since then, she explained matter-of-factly, but no relationship had lasted longer than a decade before she'd become involved with Hayato. The smile she gave her partner at that was gentle, and Harry beamed when Hayato smiled back and laid a hand over Akemi's.

"How did you two meet?"

Akemi laughed when his question was translated for her. "I had to heal Kazue after a rather… enthusiastic sparring session. She seemed to enjoy the sensation of my hands on her, so I told her she owed me a date for my assistance, and she didn't object. We have been together since."

"That's awesome! I didn't know vampires could heal, though," Harry commented with a curious look at Valeriana.

"Just because we are capable of great violence does not mean we are not capable of other feats," she said drily, lips twitching at his dismayed exclamation that that wasn't what he'd meant. "Our magic is different from wizards', but we are capable of the same effects," Valeriana interrupted his spluttering, "and while the method is different, our results are often the same. It requires a certain mindset, however, to heal. One must be able to shape one's magic to suit the receiver." At his impressed look she added, "I am not capable of it."

"Nor I," Hayato shrugged. Her hand was still on Akemi's, her thumb slowly stroking the pale skin of her lover's knuckles. "We are not flexible enough, Sakura-san and I."

Valeriana's head twitched. "Pliable, perhaps. If we are pushed, we strike back; Akemi-chan does not."

"If Akemi is pushed, I will be the one doing the striking," Hayato bared her fangs, and Valeriana felt a shiver run through Harry.

"That sounded _so_ cool," he said in awe, and Valeriana couldn't quell a chuckle.

"Perhaps someday you will attain the same skill."

The grin he gave her was both delighted and anticipatory, and another chuckle escaped her. Briefly she wondered why she bothered trying to stifle her mirth at all – certainly in this company she had no reason to – and decided now was not the time to change the habits of centuries. Harry seemed to decipher her emotions regardless, so it was hardly a matter deserving great consideration.

"First he must survive your former husband," Hayato remarked, and the mood abruptly turned serious. "You are still planning on facing him alone?"

The fact that she addressed Harry directly escaped no one's notice, and Valeriana felt herself finally accept the other vampiress in that moment.

Harry, however, didn't hesitate for a moment before nodding. "It's me he's after, really. And I won't make Valeriana kill him again."

Valeriana snorted even as warmth stole through her at his consideration of her feelings. "I have killed him twice now; a third time would be no hardship."

Her young companion blinked, obviously having forgotten the second time, then shook his head. "Still. Unless you'd like to..?"

A negation was out of her mouth before Valeriana even wholly registered the question. Catching up with herself, she added, "I would prefer never to see him again in my life. To know him safely dealt with would be a relief."

"Well, then," Harry said, and that settled it. They spent a few more minutes deciding on a suitable time and date, Valeriana knew a suitable location that Hayato assured her hadn't changed in the past centuries, and Akemi brought out writing implements so that they might not delay in issuing a challenge. Once it was written and the ink had dried Hayato took custody of the scroll, promising without words to issue it to Roerich, and Valeriana just as wordlessly thanked her for it.

"You're really good at silent communication," Harry said in hushed tones, and Valeriana's lips twitched.

"One does come to value the merits of silence and body language after some centuries," she commented drily. "Perhaps that, too, is something you will still learn."

He looked adorably chagrined at that, and Valeriana reached out to stroke his hair with a smile.

"I do not anticipate you needing very long, my light. You have respected it several times already in this trip." The tea ceremony with the Tsukishima stood out particularly to her, but Harry had been nothing if not quietly respectful at all religious sites they had visited. Even without fully understanding the culture and history of the country he had felt that the temples were a place for hushed conversation if words were uttered at all.

"Perhaps the next time you visit, he will speak Japanese," Akemi commented, her smile hidden behind a long kimono sleeve. "Then he might ask his questions directly."

A surprised laugh escaped Valeriana. "What a fearsome thought." When she translated for Harry, however, his face lit up.

"Brilliant! That would be awesome!"

Valeriana chuckled. "We will work on it, then. The basic grammar, at least, is not difficult."

"But the rest of it is?"

Valeriana's head twitched. "Japanese is a language of very subtle meanings. I am not certain it will suit you, but one never knows until one tries. I would not have thought the wakizashi suitable to you, either. It is possible that I will be surprised once more."

He did seem to have a talent for turning her expectations upside down, after all.

OoOoO

Valeriana had never woken before with the knowledge that her lover might die that day, and promptly decided she didn't care for it at all.

A week before, Hayato-san had confirmed that Roerich had accepted their challenge, and had asked her with an inscrutable look whether they would require assistance. Valeriana had demurred but didn't doubt that Akemi-chan, at least, would be watching from a distance, and felt strangely reassured by that thought. Having a healer on hand was always useful – and Valeriana would simply have to pray that Harry could escape any killing blows, for then not even Akemi could help him.

Exhaling slowly, she rolled over to regard her sleeping lover. He looked far too young with his mussed hair, his features relaxed in sleep and his breathing deep and even. He didn't look like someone who could take on a vampire and win. Least of all against a trained assassin.

Abruptly gritting her teeth, Valeriana broke off that train of thought. Now was no time to start doubting Harry, and if he looked weak in sleep she simply had to wake him to feel his vibrancy, his spirit, his determination, and Valeriana slid on top of him to catch his lips in a demanding kiss.

Harry groaned, eyelids fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmured sleepily, seemingly ignorant of the gravity of the day, but he woke swiftly when he realized what she wanted – what she needed from him.

"Mmm, what a way to wake up," Harry nuzzled her shoulder when they both lay satisfied, his sweat an overly salty tang on her tongue. "Love waking up with you."

"As do I," she murmured into his hair. "How do you feel, little one?"

Harry laughed delightedly. "After that?" He rolled them over and braced his arms on either side of her head. "Wonderful," the wizard grinned, leaning down for a kiss. She arched up, wrapping her arms around him, and took comfort from the warm press of his body against hers, from his living weight and the taste of him on her tongue. And she knew that she would intervene if it so much as looked like Roerich could win their fight – for though Roerich insisted on the honor of single combat, she knew Harry's honor was not so easily besmirched, nor his ego so easily offended.

Then the young wizard grinned down at her again, cheekily said, "Well? Let's deal with that git so that we can get back to our lives," and swung out of bed. Under Valeriana's incredulous gaze he went about getting dressed with a bounce and a hummed tune, stopping in surprise when he caught her gaze.

"What?"

She shook her head slowly. "Only you could treat a looming confrontation with such buoyancy, Harry. You do not appear in the least apprehensive."

The young wizard cocked his head with a confused expression. "Should I be? We've trained a lot these past few days, and you didn't land a single hit on me yesterday. You've killed him before – twice, even – so if I can keep you at bay, shouldn't I be able to do the same to him?"

Valeriana blinked. He did have a point. But… "You do realize you speak of a 1,000-year-old vampire as though he will be as easy an opponent as your 70-year-old dark lord?"

Harry paused in pulling on a sweatshirt, then shrugged and pulled it over his head. "Well," his voice was briefly muffled before he popped his head through the top, "that doesn't change the fact that you've killed him before. Are you _trying_ to make me nervous?"

"No," Valeriana immediately denied, rising to smooth a hand over his unruly locks. "I simply… fear for you. You seem so terribly young to me, Hikaru."

He smiled softly at the name that had become an endearment to them, laying a hand over hers to press a kiss to her palm. "Age isn't the same as experience, Ria," he smiled, "and I've learned more in ten years than he's probably learned in a hundred." Harry stepped forward to press a lingering kiss to her lips. "I'll be fine."

And she had to content herself with that.

She did outfit herself thoroughly, though, to prepare for whatever unexpected occurrences might arise, and watched carefully as Harry prepared with a series of stretches, limbering his body for action, then followed that up with a series of potions and spells to enhance his abilities and grant him protection. Despite his levity he was clearly taking no risks with his safety, and Valeriana relaxed slightly at the proof that he was taking this seriously after all.

Blue light flashed last, and Harry rolled his shoulders as though testing the fit of a new garment. Then green eyes met hers. "Ready?"

She simply nodded, and he exhaled slowly before grinning. "Alright, then. Here goes nothing!"

Thus they set out for a clearing halfway up one of the mountains surrounding Kyoto – a place she and her late husband had gone to spar in the early days of their courtship, when he had taught her martial arts and violence. She didn't relish returning there, but it offered none of the difficulties a more uneven terrain would. Surrounded by maple trees and elevated ground, it offered a training ground regular humans rarely stumbled across.

The sky was overcast as Valeriana ran over the roofs of Kyoto, Harry seated on her back so that he could conserve his energy for the fight. He could have apparated them – they'd gone to the clearing before in order to confirm its suitability – but Valeriana found she needed the outlet for her nervous energy, and Harry's weight was no hardship. Even with her speed it took them some time to reach the clearing, and Valeriana was pleased to note that the ground underfoot was dry.

Harry slid down from her back and set about warming up tight muscles, casting spells to secure the area as he went about it, though he left the clearing itself untouched. Spells that might inconvenience his opponent could affect his own movement, so though she could see Harry's temptation he resisted the urge.

Something rustled off to the side and Harry whirled, only to see Akemi and Hayato emerge from the trees.

"Sakura-chan, Hari-san," Akemi called with a smile, and Harry relaxed.

"Ohay _ō_ gozaimasu, Akemi-san, Hayato-san," he smiled back. "How are you?"

"Ohay _ō_ gozaimasu," Hayato replied as they approached, her face drawn as it hadn't been during their recent dinner. "We are well, thank you. Are you ready?" Her assessing look suggested that she doubted a human could ever be ready, and Harry snorted.

"Sure am!" he chirped obnoxiously, grinning at her answering scowl. "No, but really; I am ready," he said more soberly, rolling his head and shoulders under the watchful eyes of three vampires. "You'll see."

Hayato simply nodded, Valeriana providing Akemi with a brief translation that had her smiling encouragingly at Harry as he stretched. The three vampires fell into Japanese, leaving Harry to focus on his preparations, though Valeriana was amused by Akemi's interest when he renewed the spells on himself.

All too soon they heard the sounds of someone approaching, all conversation ceasing abruptly as they focused on the other end of the clearing. Valeriana swept a quick look over her companions, noting Hayato-san's exasperation with such a noisy approach and Akemi-chan's barely hidden distaste, then Harry's tense features. She laid a hand on his shoulder and he threw her a quick nervous smile over his shoulder before they both turned their attention back to the forest.

Suddenly Hayato snorted her disgust. "He sounds like a boar crashing through the trees. I have never heard such a loud vampire before." She said it in English, but Akemi nodded her agreement, knowing her lover well enough to guess at the meaning of her statement.

"If he projects his every move with such noise as this Hari-san will have an easy victory," the normally gentle-faced vampiress said mockingly. "Does he approach so loudly to give Hari-san that impression?"

"You credit him with more subtlety than he possesses, Akemi-chan," Hayato answered for Valeriana. "That man is loud in all he does, but this is more than I had expected."

Just then Roerich leapt into the clearing with a roar, and Valeriana allowed herself a vexed sigh that brought all attention to her.

"Hayato-san is correct," she limited herself to saying. Switching to English, she added, "He will be even louder than usual in an attempt at intimidation. Hayato-san, you must prepare your ears. You will admit that noise is effective against opponents with our hearing abilities. Harry will find it rather less disturbing than we; but then, he will also be closer to the source."

"Lovely," Harry commented drily. Hayato's expression suggested she agreed.

"Where is the human that would challenge me?" Roerich roared in Russian, and Valeriana rolled her eyes.

"Now he pretends to be blind. He asks where his challenger is."

Hayato and Harry both snorted, exchanging a startled glance that had Harry loose a peal of laughter, the tension suddenly dissipating. They were all still battle-ready, Harry in particular standing ready to fight, but none of the vampires could take Roerich seriously anymore.

"Have fun, Hikaru-kun," Valeriana smirked, leaning forward to meet Harry in a decisive kiss. "Finish him quickly; he doesn't deserve a protracted fight."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry grinned, giving her another kiss. "I'll be back before you know it." Turning to the other vampiresses, he bowed. "Excuse me, Hayato-san; Akemi-san."

They bowed back, Hayato drily wishing him a good fight. Roerich, on the other side of the clearing, looked as impatient as Valeriana had ever seen him.

"Come on, little human – are you that afraid of death?" he jeered, apparently displeased that Harry could approach this fight so casually. He wasn't used to his opponents looking so at ease going into a confrontation, Valeriana supposed. His manner still grated.

"Was he always this distasteful?" she murmured to her two companions, her eyes lingering first on Harry's trim and toned figure, then moving to Roerich's muscled bulk. A palpably disbelieving gaze had her glancing over at Hayato, who in that moment looked nearly as disgusted with her as her late husband.

" _Yes_ ," she said strongly, and Akemi put a calming hand on her lover's sleeve.

"He may have been gentler to you, Sakura-chan," her friend said softly, "but he was never less than unpleasant to everyone else. I am sorry that you should have to face such disillusionment on your return to Kyoto, Sakura-chan."

Valeriana remained silent for a moment, Roerich's rumbling voice a steady sound in the background, then she turned away from her companions.

"He will not be alive to disappoint me much longer."

Harry and Roerich were slowly circling each other in the center of the clearing, the Russian vampire taunting Harry with a steady stream of insults. Thin, runty, weak, an embarrassment to his parents, too worthless to accomplish anything in life – Roerich's insults were far off the mark until he switched to more lewd taunts, which were still inaccurate but more offensive.

"Once I've killed you I'll drag your corpse to your home and rape your mother in front of her dead son," he said, baring his teeth viciously when Harry grimaced.

"That's disgusting. You'd rape a skeleton in front of a corpse?"

Roerich scoffed. "I should have known that the mother of such a worthless child would have fled into death rather than face the disgrace to the family," he jeered, and Valeriana lost patience.

"Do you intend to talk him to death, govniuk?" she hissed, surprising herself with the use of one of his preferred Russian insults: Shithead. "Shut up and spare all our ears. Put your fists where your mouth is and die like the disgrace you are."

"You dare!" the vampire roared, whirling on her, and Valeriana smirked when Harry hit him in the back with a stinging spell just as he had Hayato, resulting in a furious vampire rounding on him with a filthy expletive.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry waved it off with a roll of his eyes. "Ready to fight now?"

It seemed Roerich was, because he finally lunged at Harry only to narrowly evade the stream of spellfire Harry let loose.

"Magic," he snarled, leaping after Harry and letting loose a frustrated bellow when Harry jumped away. "Face me like a man!"

Harry just sprang aside and hit the area around Roerich with destructive spells that sent splinters of ground exploding up at the vampire, some hitting Roerich hard enough to draw blood. When the man jumped straight up to escape the destroyed zone Harry hit him with an Incarcerous – the ropes immediately torn by superhuman strength – and a Stupefy that sent the blond plummeting to the ground only to jolt back into consciousness upon impact. A cutting curse sent blood spurting from a thick leg close enough to the groin to drive home that the little wizard could do him serious damage, and Roerich went fully to the offensive.

Lunging after Harry with his bare hands, he dodged a flaming red spell and a nauseously puce one, Harry's increased speed of fire catching him off-guard with a wide-range blasting hex, and with a fierce cry the wizard forced Roerich back on the defense. Deep furrows scored the meadow, a blistering sun charm burned the vampire's arm and the man suddenly sprung forward, taking a severing hex to the leg but crashing into Harry, knocking the wizard to the ground and breaking his right arm with the force of his impact. Harry cried out in pain and lashed out with his left hand, punching Roerich in the face and sending him reeling. The vampire turned to lunge again – and received a painfully uttered Sectumsempra right across the eyes.

The roar of a wounded bear filled the clearing, blood gushing from the furrow across his face that would never heal, that only Snape knew the counter to, and Harry painfully raised his broken arm again.

"Valeriana?"

She was by his side in an instant, holding out her hands to magically contain the fiendfyre he levelled at the flailing vampire, fiery creatures bursting from Harry's wand to consume Roerich too quickly for the vampire to even scream. Harry maintained the spell, wobbling slightly on his feet, until Valeriana ordered him to release it and he wrenched his wand up, cutting off the spell and letting it loose – only for Valeriana to bring her hands down, quelling the writhing shapes with brute magical force. Only blackened ground remained where Roerich had stood, every sign of life obliterated by the destructive spell that was one of the only ways to destroy not only a vampire's body, but also their soul.

Silence gripped the clearing, Harry's harsh breathing and the wind the only noises – then Valeriana whirled and caught him in a fierce embrace, kissing him as though her life depended on it, feeling his heartbeat pound against her, feeling his dawning realization that he'd done it, that he'd bested a being a thousand years his senior, and the rush of his triumph swelled and broke in a giddy laugh that bubbled up from inside both of them.

"I did it!" he crowed, and she agreed aloud with exultation, with awe, with exhilaration as Harry laughed.

"I'm alive!" he exclaimed.

" _Yes_ ," Valeriana agreed, meeting his lips with heat and joy and life, Harry giving as good as he got until he moved his arm unwisely.

"Ouch." His chest still heaved from exertion, the pain of his broken arm more acute as adrenaline began to wear off. "Maybe we should get to a hospital; I'm rubbish at healing spells," he pulled away, but despite the pain he still beamed at her. "God, I can't believe I actually did it!"

"And here I thought you were confident you couldn't lose?" Valeriana teased, though she had yet to stop beaming herself.

A nearby person snorted, and they both turned to see their Japanese companions approaching. Hayato had a look of grudging approval, but Akemi was beaming nearly as broadly as the other two.

"That was beautifully done, Hari-san!" she exclaimed, waiting for Valeriana's translation before offering, "I will heal your arm, if you permit it."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Harry accepted gratefully, having quite forgotten about the vampiress's skill at healing, and Akemi carefully wrapped her little hands around his upper arm. "Ouch," Harry winced as his bones grated back into place, gritting his teeth until Akemi released him with a soft exhalation.

"Done," she said, but before Valeriana could translate for Harry he was already thanking the petite vampiress, his left hand feeling his right arm for the healed bone.

"I love magical healing," he said fervently as they turned and set out for Kyoto, leaving a circle of burnt earth behind. "I can't imagine having to wait months for a bone to heal on its own."

Valeriana just reached out to smooth a hand over his hair. She had lost count of how many times she'd broken something and been forced to wait it out as any other nonmagical human, just as she had lost count of the places she'd lived or the people she had met, but that was alright. In this moment she was content to leave the past where it belonged and bask in Harry's presence by her side, the young human leaping down the mountain like he'd been born for it. He'd make a wonderful vampire, one day.

And as they leapt through the Japanese hillside together, Valeriana found herself looking forward to it.

OoOoO

A/N: Wow. It feels SO good to have this all together, and finally polished enough to share with you. Some of you have been waiting a year for this update, and while it isn't as long as the first part I hope you enjoyed it just as much! I loved writing this – Valeriana's perspective was a joy to show, the original characters unexpected and delightful, and a very important part of her past revealed and exorcised. I hadn't expected Roerich to be an abusive jerkface until suddenly it was the only possible explanation for her own personality, her emotionless façade and her fear that Harry will leave her at every turn. I think he's proved himself to her, and I think she's found comfort in realizing the true extent of Roerich's abuse from the shelter of Harry's love. I didn't quite go into detail in regard to the abuse, but I think it was clear enough regardless. If it wasn't, or you have suggestions for the story, feel free to share them with me – I'm always delighted to hear from my readers! And I do have ideas for future chapters, so this isn't finished yet; not by a long shot. As you've seen, however, I can't promise quick updates. Real life does take up a lot of my time, and there are other stories I'm working on that you might find enjoyable! Simply check out my profile. (A lot of it looks like slash, but I promise that not even half my stories have slash pairings. I particularly like to recommend my story "After the Boggart" – there's just far too little serious fanfiction about Neville, at least on this site.)

Thank you so much for your faves, your reviews, and all the love you've shown this story so far! I've received some truly heartwarming reviews that I treasure, and the number of you who've commended a well-written het vampire story is stunning. Thank you all so very much. Look forward to the next part! (The issue of Dumbledore's intentions still hasn't been resolved, after all… *winks and takes herself off to the drawing board*)


	3. Time Slip

A/N: "With a bit of a mind flip… You're into a time slip…"

OoOoO

She hungered. She _hungered_. Grinding her teeth, Valeriana cursed herself for a fool. How old was she, to have forgotten the hunger of several months' fasting? She hadn't even truly noticed until that scent had caught her notice, her body moving before the smell had even fully registered.

A growl tore itself free from her throat, left behind on the displaced air in her wake. The scent was so close now, so close, so-

"Sirius," she heard a voice whisper, the sound so loud to her ears, and Valeriana was in the alley with the boy pressed to the wall before she knew it herself; wide green eyes met hers and she froze, fangs already out and aching for his blood.

"Wizard," she breathed – was she truly going to end this way, the victim of accidental magic after all the violence she had survived? – and the boy blinked, emotions flicking through his eyes more quickly than she could decipher in her bloodlust. Then he tilted his head.

"Go ahead. Just don't take too much, please."

Valeriana felt shock flood her before she whimpered and sank her fangs into his neck, surrendering to her need for this strange boy's blood, and nearly whimpered again at the shock of his taste on her tongue. It had been so long, too long since she had last had a meal, but she had never before had the blood of such a powerful wizard. Her whole body tingled. It was unthinkable, that one with such strong blood would allow a stranger access with such apparent ease, seeming truly relaxed in her grasp, and Valeriana drank as only a starving vampire could.

Then he nudged her weakly, his drowsy voice saying in her ear, "More and I'll faint", and Valeriana tensed only for a moment before releasing him. Green eyes, clouded from the feeding, blinked before focusing on her, and Valeriana realized with a sinking feeling that if she stayed in the vicinity of this young human, it was inevitable that she would fall in love with him. "Koi no yakan," she remembered hearing once in Japan, and back then she had looked down on it as ridiculous romanticism of the Japanese type, but now she felt it deep in her bones.

She met green eyes again and felt the premonition of love thrum through her, and when he made her a deal she didn't even consider turning it down.

OoOoO

She studied the human closely in the subsequent months, noting with interest his lack of fear, not only of her but of his appalling guardians, and wondering at his unhesitating courtesy in allowing her the bed without once giving her the impression that he minded in the slightest. That he turned down her offer to share the bed, not just the first night but even some weeks later when she reiterated her offer, was... unusual.

"Unusual" rather summed up this human, she found.

He showed the greatest kindness and tenderness to an owl, yet nothing in his demeanor suggested a lack of human friends. He interacted easily even with a predator such as she, and strangely his pet followed suit, accepting a treat directly from her palm when Harry talked her into the attempt. Valeriana couldn't remember feeding an animal since the days of her slavery, long since; animals rarely felt at ease around her kind, and feeding the snowy owl brought back sharp memories of times she had yearned for the simple comfort of soft fur under her fingers, skirted around by dogs and hissed at by cats when she made the attempt.

She had forgotten those days. They had hurt too much.

Now, however, she had at her fingertips a human and an owl both entirely untypical of their kind, subjecting themselves willingly to her touch and her needs. She found herself reaching out to stroke the owl's feathers each night when she returned from her hunt, the human asleep in his makeshift bed as the nighttime creatures shared the dark, white feathers smooth under undead fingers. Two beings who survived on food still warm with life, who hunted alone in the night.

Her eyes fell to the tousled-haired boy on the floor, looking even younger in sleep than out of it. He had a fire within him, a burning need for something she had yet to discover, and yet there was a calmness about him that soothed and settled. A jaded air she thought untypical of someone so young. A bitterness at life that even she hadn't had at his age. A look in his eyes that spoke of painful knowledge, and a quality to his attention that felt acquired by necessity and not natural interest. He felt like a boy forced to be a man, who had been given little support yet many expectations, but Valeriana couldn't see who might have thus burdened a child whose family appeared to despise him. A teacher?

Hedwig hooted, and Valeriana looked to the animal. Large eyes glinted up at her; then the owl tossed her head in a clear demand, and Valeriana felt a smile tug at her lips as she complied with the unspoken command to resume her petting.

Unusual indeed.

OoOoO

It was strangely difficult, to spend so much time with someone she found attractive yet couldn't reach out to aside from their nightly feedings. She knew it was perhaps courting harm, for her to drink from him each night, yet she found she was unwilling to deny herself the pleasure of such intimacy with a young man utterly unwilling to presume in any way.

It was, actually, rather frustrating. She had never known a male to show great restraint when it came to his lust, and yet this human hid his reactions to her well enough that she supposed another human would be unable to recognize them.

But she was no human, and to a vampire his attraction to her was obvious. And yet he gave no sign of it; indeed, she felt that even if she kissed him he would turn her down as respectfully as possible, if in a considerably flustered state.

The mental image was surprisingly appealing.

She was not yet in love with him; was, in fact, exceedingly reluctant to allow herself such depth of emotion again despite the equally fervent wish for true companionship; but it was difficult to deny her attraction to the attentive youth. The way he leaned slightly into her when her lips were on his neck, his shiver when she licked over fresh puncture marks, and the musky scent of his arousal when she drew her fingertips across his skin were tantalizing and heady, beckoning for intimacy she hadn't experienced in far too long, but though she felt she could seduce the young man if she made the attempt, she felt too strong a respect for him to do so. It was unthinkable that he could come to feel more than lust for her, despite his odd ease in her company, and she would not endanger their tentative friendship; not when she was so parched for it that the thought of leaving was nearly a physical ache.

OoOoO

She allowed herself only an embrace when they parted company, careful to reign in her emotions to avoid harming him with the unthinking strength of a vampire, and even managed a small smile before she left, Harry's gasp at her speed left far behind as she raced away. A detached part of her noted that the sunlight barely even prickled, that she had been able to easily mask herself from human notice, that she was likely a high-level vampire now – but the rest of her didn't care. She would return in an instant to being low-level and feeling the slow burn of the sun if it meant another few months in Harry's company.

It was then that she knew she would head straight for Hogwarts, put herself at the mercy of a powerful Light wizard despite her Dark status on the off chance, the remotest possibility, that she might be able to remain in Harry's vicinity. No reasonable man would hire a Dark creature, least of all a kind with a reputation for being cold and remorseless... but Harry's grasp on history was clearly abysmal, and who better to teach History than a being centuries old?

She couldn't imagine it working, but the shred of hope was more than she had felt of that emotion since the death of her husband.

OoOoO

Some days later found her staring at the mirror in her hand, vacillating between telling Harry of her new employment and making it a surprise, unsure whether he would welcome the news or not, unsure how it had even happened.

Dumbledore had invited her to his office with apparent unconcern and an unexpected show of grandfatherly behavior (which still struck Valeriana as something that would amuse Harry, as she was several times Dumbledore's age), and it had taken her very little effort to procure the position of History professor at Britain's premier school of magic.

It was rather alarming, when you considered it. What kind of man was truly unworried to employ a blood-sucking creature as a teacher?

Regardless, she was now officially Valeriana Natassa, Hogwarts History Professor. Which brought her to the mirror, wondering whether to tell Harry.

She gave it another blank look, and was about to put aside both the mirror and the decision when the surface abruptly changed and a message from Harry appeared in untidy handwriting. A lightness came over her – for it was the first message she had received since their parting – then her mind caught up with the message and she gaped at the foolishness of sending magical blood by owl post to someone even such a special owl could not find.

"That fool!" burst out of her before she sprang up, already dashing back to Little Whinging as she cursed under her breath. And yet she couldn't deny the warm feeling spreading through her that he would have provided for her in such a way, that he would consider her needs even when she was far away from him. It occurred to her to wonder whether he would have attempted to find a way to provide for her even when he was off at school with no guarantee of seeing her again, but as it was he would see her again sooner than he expected.

With this, however, she was convinced that to keep her new post a secret was the wiser choice.

OoOoO

Reading up on wizarding history – both before and after her interview at Hogwarts – was an interesting pastime. Valeriana had been unaware of wizard influence during World War II, though it was unsurprising, and she had certainly heard nothing of the Dark Lord Voldemort until Harry had mentioned vampires possibly allying themselves with him. It was intriguing that the man had somehow been bested by a child, and Valeriana wondered whether Harry knew the other boy who shared his name; it was a common name, but they both appeared to attend the same school. Perhaps Harry Potter and Harry Dursley were friends, and Harry had made that deal with her in order to gain information for the Boy-Who-Lived?

Dismissing it as unimportant, Valeriana found it far more alarming that Voldemort had clearly dabbled in soul magic, and without thinking about her reasons overly much began seeking out the wizard's soul containers. Had she needed to explain her actions to anyone else she might have said that soul magic was an abomination, that an immortal terrorist was something she, as a true immortal, couldn't abide, or that she wasn't about to allow a threat to Harry to remain if she could prevent it; but no one asked and no one knew of her little quest.

Gathering the soul containers was laughably easy when you knew that goblins had an affinity for soul magic. You simply gave the goblins a shred of a wizard's magic – she found a wealth of ritual magic in the graveyard Voldemort had supposedly been resurrected in, and bottled some – and the goblins could tell you (for a very high price) how many soul shards that wizard had created, and where they were located. When they realized one was in their own bank Valeriana could see the prospect of blackmailing Voldemort flickering through their minds, and she offered them a truly preposterous sum of money to use that soul vessel to summon the others and hand them over to her.

The mere thought of that sum being theirs had them scrambling for a higher price, and Valeriana left the bank with three items and the knowledge of two further horcruxes the goblins had been unable to summon due to those soul shards being inside living beings.

The knowledge that Harry Potter was a horcrux was disturbing, particularly since Valeriana was aware that humans had always destroyed soul shards by destroying their vessels. She made a mental note to rid Potter of the horcrux before any human decided to end him in a misguided attempt to kill Voldemort.

With three days left to the start of the school year, Valeriana knew that the issue of Potter's horcrux would soon be dealt with, but that she didn't have the time or skills needed to hunt down Voldemort's pet snake. It was however a simple matter to contact a vampire who owed her a debt, and altogether too pleasing to find out that he had gone on to specialize in tracking down rare magical animals after their last interaction several centuries ago, and Valeriana gladly left the task to the man who had once hired her to murder a small coven after they had tortured and killed the vampire's remaining human family. Revenge had always paid well, and as this vampire had then not had the means to pay her, she had accepted a debt in return. And now, it paid off more handsomely than any monetary sum.

Satisfied that she had done all she could prior to her entry to wizarding society, Valeriana reluctantly went out to deck herself in robes. Baggy sweaters, no matter how comfortable they were, would not be suitable attire for an instructor, and her clunky boots would raise the eyebrows of her fellow teachers in a most irritating way. Better to purchase several sets of comfortably tailored robes and have done with it.

Even so, her reception from the Hogwarts staff upon their first meeting was more familiar to her than Dumbledore's odd welcome: wariness, apprehension, suspicion and fear were predominant in all her new colleagues. She met them with neutral courtesy, stated that she had provided for her dietary needs, implied that she was uninterested in the immature blood of children, and proceeded to present them with the physical distance they required to feel marginally safer in her presence. The distrust emanating from their group had her hoping the students would come closer to Harry's unconcern than the adults' palpable unease, but she knew such hope was fruitless.

Watching from the head table as the students poured into the Great Hall was an experience unlike any other: A wave of sound, smells, sensory noise that hit her like a physical attack though she endeavored to keep it from showing on her face. She knew herself to be tense as a tightly strung bow, briefly grateful that she was at the very end of the table next to the surly Potions professor who was sitting nearly just as tensely, and felt a brief kinship with the man who'd clearly known what to expect.

Then her gaze flicked across a redhead's obvious amazement to meet sparkling green eyes, and her Harry gave her a delighted grin that brought a smile to her face despite her discomfort, the sight of his joy enough to make it all worth it.

His companions drew his attention away, and Valeriana was unsurprised to see the unusual wizard greet only the half-giant on staff with a grin; a flick of her eyes to the side showed the Care of Magical Creatures professor waving enthusiastically.

Then she focused back on Harry, shutting out as much of the surrounding noise as she could, trying to center herself on the familiar sight of tousled black hair, pale skin, and the obvious joy he felt at being back at this school. In that moment she didn't care that anyone could notice her intent gaze and whom it was focused on, because if she didn't enter some sort of meditative state she would pass out and she would rather not shut her eyes in a room full of potential threats when she already felt on edge from all the eyes on her. She had never been one for the spotlight, and had never subjected herself to so many potentially hostile gazes at any one time, and certainly had avoided this much noise whenever possible.

I should have worn earplugs, she realized wryly. Too late. Though...

Concentrating for a moment, Valeriana gathered magic around her ears, accessing her expanded store to muffle the sounds around her, and nearly sighed in relief when the noise level abruptly became far more bearable. Her nostrils received the same treatment, and once Valeriana was able to cast her attention across the hall once more she realized the entire meal had passed without her notice, everyone finishing their desserts while she had been insensate. The professor at her side still hummed with tension, now likely because she had been as still as a statue for over half an hour, and she was briefly tempted to explain before she realized there was no point, not when she wouldn't be partaking in future meals either. Why bother explaining the difference between being overwhelmed and simply not needing to eat? She had about the same range of motion in both cases.

Then Dumbledore rose from his seat, and blissful quiet fell over the hall.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he boomed, and Valeriana winced. Her ears were carefully padded further for the rest of the headmaster's speech, noting with interest Harry's reactions to Professor Slughorn's appointment as Potions master and Professor Snape's position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The youth's exclamation of horror at Snape's new post would need some investigating, but Valeriana mentally urged him to say no more in such a public venue – and strangely, he didn't, settling sullenly into his bench.

Seemingly oblivious to the students' reactions to the news – for not only Harry had reacted negatively, and Valeriana wondered what that said about the dark-haired man by her side – Dumbledore went on to introduce her as History of Magic professor, blithely saying that she was a vampire and several centuries older than he himself.

Keeping her face carefully blank, she rose and nodded to the perturbed students.

"I assure you that none of you are in danger," she assured them; "I have with me a sufficient amount of nourishment to last me the year," she couldn't prevent a flicked glance at Harry and saw him stifle a laugh, "and I am sure that Professor Snape will be happy to educate you on my kind in your next Defense class. I look forward to seeing you all in my class."

She retook her seat, spreading her robes around her with the ease of someone who had spent centuries in kimonos, and watched passively as Dumbledore finished his speech and released them all into the halls of Hogwarts.

OoOoO

She had a day of respite, showing up with carefully padded senses to lunch and dinner despite the headmaster's assurance that she wasn't required to attend any meals but the feasts. Valeriana didn't doubt that everyone would be much relieved to see her ensconced in her quarters – indeed, it was tempting – but she was unwilling to forego the pleasure of seeing Harry. Perhaps it was pathetic, but she had long since given up on caring about other opinions and she saw no reason not to allow herself glimpses of the only person here who didn't eye her with mistrust, fear or lust.

"Good morning," she greeted her first class, all Hogwarts students assembled in the Great Hall for the same lesson. "My name is Valeriana Natassa, and rather than a regular class this subject will be conducted as a lecture." Outlining what she expected of her students, she issued a warning not to skip her class though she knew how most would twist it into a threat, and launched straight into her first lesson on recent history.

She could reluctantly admire Voldemort for achieving such fear of an assumed name, knowing her own reputation as Chimamire no Sakura, but she was better pleased when the students stopped gasping at every mention of the wizard. Spinning a tale she had only recently learned about – she'd had no reason to learn about recent British magical history before deciding to interact with wizards, after all – she was unsurprised to find the children hanging on her every word. Clearly no one had ever bothered to tell them of the Dark Lord's origins.

"I have often wondered how many of his Death Eaters would continue to follow him if they knew he was the very type of wizard they abhor, as well as most likely being insane. There are side-effects to splitting one's soul, after all, and being without a body for so many years cannot have left the man's mind very stable."

Interestingly, Harry cast a smug look across the hall, and Valeriana followed his gaze to see a Slytherin student clutching his left forearm with a horrified expression. Ah, yes; the Dark Mark.

"The man was, however, both extremely powerful and intelligent before he began splitting his soul; the Dark Mark, for example, was almost entirely a creation of his own. Cast while speaking Parseltongue, it appears that there is no means of removing it, though as it faded after his first downfall it is likely that it will fade entirely after his death." Frankly, she didn't care either way; the important thing was, "And die he will, for I have here several items..."

She turned and took a large cloth bag from the staff table. "Does anyone care to guess what I have in here?"

There was silence, then a familiar voice.

"His soul," Harry said, green eyes meeting blue.

She nodded. "Your name?" Strangely, it was only in that moment that she realized his family might have been related to him on his mother's side, that he might not be Harry Dursley at all, and that she had never seen a photo of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Then he answered, "Harry Potter," and her heart stopped.

Horror crawling through her, she forcefully blanked her expression and turned away, pulling items from the bag with numb hands. Of course, of course, of _course_ the one wizard who'd shown a vampire open acceptance, who'd struck a deal with one because he'd needed to know more about Voldemort's potential allies, was the Boy-Who-Lived, an untouchable to most wizards and the one figure she would be killed for influencing in any way if they found out about the summer she had spent alone with him, locked in by abusive relatives with no apparent guards around the house because _how_ could they have let him become prey to a vampire otherwise, and-

"These are Hufflepuff's Cup, Slytherin's locket, and Ravenclaw's diadem," she interrupted her own thoughts forcefully, dropping the bag and reaching into her robes. Focus. "Each of these priceless, historic artifacts has a piece of Tom Riddle's soul in them. There are only few ways to destroy a soul. Does anyone know them?"

A pointless question; she knew who would answer, for they had discussed the topic over the summer and no one else dared speak up.

"Harry Potter again, ma'am," the young man said – and it was so clear, now, what had brought about that strange mix of bitterness, responsibility and desperate need for knowledge. Through her numbness she heard him rattle off the things she had told him personally over the summer, adding cheekily that he supposed vampire blood made the list since she had a vial of it in her hand.

"Correct, Mr. Potter," she said, using the name to distance herself mentally from the matter and banish her convoluted thoughts. Her mind calmed, and she added, "Five points to Gyffindor," seeing surprise on more than his face.

"Now then. Using most of the options listed by Mr. Potter would lead to the complete destruction of the object holding the soul shard, but using vampire blood will not. Observe." She demonstrated first on the chalice, then proceeded swiftly to the other two items and called Harry up to join her. She couldn't return his crooked smile when he reached her.

"I apologize for this, Mr. Potter," she said quietly, wishing she could tell him this in private, could break the news gently, but... "The day that is now known as the Fall of Lord Voldemort, nobody knows precisely what happened, but one thing I am afraid all vampires are sure of-" a complete falsehood, but it served her well in this case- "An additional soul shard was created that night."

A frown stole across the young face, but Valeriana saw the moment Harry realized what she meant.

"My scar," he whispered. His face was pale. "His snake is one, too, isn't she. Nagini."

Valeriana nodded – of course he would make that connection. "You need not worry about her," she tried to reassure him. "A fellow vampire owed me a favor, and as of this morning the snake no longer exists."

Harry frowned again, and Valeriana was surprised when he said with utter certainty that he would have felt Voldemort's anger at her death. In that moment she realized that the nightmares he'd had over the summer might have been more than he had let on, and that the connection was far deeper than she could have ever dreamed.

Then Harry took a deep breath, and she could see his unwilling resolve. "I have to die, then?"

"No!" Valeriana exclaimed before she could stop herself, shock/horror/pain hitting her like a brick. "No," she repeated more calmly, tamping her emotions till she was only left with a deep concern that he was so willing to sacrifice himself to take down this wizard. "Of course not." She held up the vial, the last bit of blood catching the light, "You only have to drink this."

Harry's eyes widened, he alone knowing the effects of drinking vampire blood, and she saw the relief steal through him. "Well, thank goodness for that!"

"Quite." She managed a tiny, relieved smile, and handed him the vial. "Here; drink up. It may hurt somewhat, and you may lose consciousness after the shard has been destroyed, but I do not believe it will harm you." God, she prayed she was right about this. There were instances of vampire blood having rid humans of spirits possessing them, destroying the foreign soul latching on to theirs, but she had never heard of a human hosting a soul shard, particularly over so many years. Trying to hide her fears, she offered, "Should you die, you are welcome to haunt me."

Harry laughed at that, and she saw the tension leave him. "Will do, Professor," he grinned, and swallowed her blood without further ado. Lowering the vial, he gave her a surprised look. "That tasted surprisingly alright," he said – then Valeriana caught him as he collapsed, convulsing in her arms. His agonized noises were the only sounds as he thrashed in her hold, limbs twitching and face contorted in anguish; then his eyes bulged, his mouth open in a silent scream as black smoke billowed from the scar on his forehead, his body curving into a strained arch despite Valeriana's tight hold as an unearthly scream rent the air.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, all the tension left his body and Harry collapsed limply in her arms.

A breath; then Valeriana closed her eyes in relief as she felt Harry's heart beating on while chaos broke out around them.

OoOoO

The young wizard recovered swiftly, to her considerable relief, and though he struggled with his improved hearing for some days the faster movement didn't seem to bring him the same troubles. And to run with him...

Valeriana bit her bottom lip hard when the bedroom door shut behind her after their run, immediately setting about relieving herself of the frustration borne of his refusal, moaning into the silence of her room as she remembered him warm under her, his erection against her leg, his skin under her lips, the burning _need_ to have him then and there, to claim and possess and hear him cry out for her, for HER, "Harry," she whimpered, and shuddered into her climax with a silent cry, wishing for someone she couldn't have.

"Harry..."

OoOoO

She didn't approach him, after that. His friends were already too suspicious of her, and he seemed to be doing well, so Valeriana took a step back and schooled herself into a neutral demeanor whenever she caught sight of him. She had gotten caught up in the moment, and while she wouldn't have regretted a thing she supposed it was good that Harry had stopped her. Now really wasn't the time, not when there was already too much on his plate, and he didn't need her complicating things with lust, of all things, when he had a homicidal maniac to apparently deal with on his own.

Or not so much on his own, she realized when he came to her for help.

After that events unrolled rapidly, classes and martial lessons and late-night meetings culminating in the death of Lord Voldemort by Harry Potter's hand, Valeriana both surprised and pleased to see Harry hesitate not at all before parting Voldemort's head from his neck, his stroke sure and steady and his triumph at the easy kill nearly palpable. Despite knowing his past and his troubles with this wizard, she had doubted him, fearing that he lacked the necessary ruthlessness to end a life, but he didn't seem to feel even a shred of remorse in the aftermath.

Unusual, but again... that word summarized Harry in her mind.

The revelation of the dead basilisk was the final piece convincing her of Dumbledore's ill intentions towards Harry, and it resulted in the young wizard's decision to leave Hogwarts as soon as he could. Far more surprising, to her, was a whispered revelation that she had only ever dreamed of him saying in her wilder dreams.

"I think I might be falling in love with you."

Valeriana stilled at the confession. Had she been a typical human her heart might have stopped, she supposed. As a vampire it never beat regardless.

"I think I might be as well," she replied quietly, knowing she was already lost but unwilling to pressure Harry into anything by stating so.

"You think you might be falling in love with me?" the clueless wizard asked, looking bewildered. " _Why_?" And there was such incomprehension in his voice that she had to reach out, cup the nape of his neck and tell this human, so ignorant of his own worth, just what she found attractive about him.

Could he truly not see his good qualities? How wonderful he was, and how accepted he made her feel in a world that shunned her kind? How human he made her feel, when she had long ago accepted that she was a monster...

Lost in her own thoughts, she was brought back to the present when Harry relaxed under her hand.

"That's great," he said, and truly seemed to mean it. Any possible issues he dismissed for the moment, apparently – incredibly – feeling no qualms at loving an undead creature. And looking into his sparkling eyes, Valeriana briefly felt the phantom sensation of her heart stuttering.

OoOoO

Harry's last few days at Hogwarts flew by, and before she knew it he was fighting his way out of Hogwarts and portkeying away to Potter Manor, leaving her to the tender mercies of his fellow students. A somewhat unjust assessment, she conceded as soon as she caught Hermione's smile and Ronald's nod, and it wasn't as though she would be spending much time at Hogwarts. She would appear for lunch and dinner – it would be far too obvious for her to abruptly start missing them now – but Potter Manor was only two hours' run from Hogwarts, so to go after dinner and return in time for lunch was perfectly reasonable.

And indeed, it worked out without anyone seeming to realize that she spent only the afternoon hours in the castle. She and Harry returned to a nightly feeding schedule, falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards, and it was wonderful to wake and hold her sleeping human for however long it took him to wake, simply enjoying his proximity and the privilege of having these lazy mornings together.

Well, lazy for her, at least. Harry was determined to achieve his NEWTs in one year instead of two, and had set himself a schedule he was intent on sticking to, so as soon as his timer woke him he rose to make himself breakfast, teaching Valeriana how to replicate his efforts despite her inability to judge the taste of the food. It was a novel experience, to have a human teach her something so basic, and she loved his reaction when she once cooked him breakfast so much that she began to do so every morning. Giving up the extra half hour in bed with him was no hardship when she was awake hours earlier anyway, and waking him up with a kiss and the smell of breakfast was enjoyable for both of them.

Harry once expressed his feeling of giving little and receiving much, and Valeriana was only able to stare at him blankly for a long moment.

"I apologize," she said finally, "I don't believe I quite understood. Could you repeat that?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but did repeat, "I feel like you're always having to accommodate me, and that I'm not giving anything back. You keep helping me with everything: studying, leaving Hogwarts, dealing with Voldemort – and I can't help you with anything." He gnawed at his lip. "It's just- is there anything I can do?" Entreating eyes met her bewildered gaze. "I feel like I'm not doing anything for you."

Valeriana stared. "You... believe you're not doing anything for me?"

"Well, yeah."

Another bewildered pause.

"Harry," Valeriana tried, unsure what to say to that. "I have barely done anything for you. No; hear me out. I fed off you for an entire summer, giving only some conversation in exchange. I dealt with the horcruxes, yes, but that is something you could have done just as easily, for goblins only listen to money and you have enough to have dealt with them. I acquired the portkey to Voldemort's hideout, but considering all it took was a letter and Malfoy as a go-between, you and your friends could have done as much with a good glamour charm and some intimidation. I cut off the wizard's arms, but he was so slow that your blade to the neck would have been sufficient, and my presence was not required to send his underlings scattering; I do not doubt that you could have managed as much on your own. You could have dealt with your relatives much the same way – a glamour would have sufficed in that case as well – and you certainly did not need me in order to acquire this manor."

She frowned at him. "You are undermining your own accomplishments and worth if you truly believe I did everything. I merely supported you where I could." Twitching her head, she added, "Indeed, you are giving me far more than you seem to realize – not only your blood and magic, which you place _far_ too little value on – but your time, your acceptance, and your affection. Your _trust_. Harry, I would give far more than just some support for such a gift. You give me far more than I return; I realize that I am not particularly... expressive," her head twitched, "and that I am hardly a desirable partner for one so young and vibrant as you. If you are happy with what I have been able to provide thus far, I am content, but I cannot help but feel that someday you will realize that I am leeching the life from you and find a more suitable partner."

Now Harry was the one gaping at her. "Not desirable?" He burst into incredulous laughter. "Valeriana, half the guys I know would kill to have a chance with an immortal, gorgeous woman! Okay, if they weren't so afraid of seeming inexperienced," he shrugged with a grin. "And the rest is just rot. Frankly, considering you feeding off me seems to strengthen my core, I'm gaining from that as well, and there's no way I could have managed the rest without you." He snorted. "How would I have even gotten the idea to ask the goblins? And how would a regular human bottle a magical signature for them, anyway? I'm pretty sure that isn't something I could find instructions for in a book." He frowned up at her, "There's no way I would have thought to masquerade as a vampire leader to get at Voldemort, either, and whom would I have learned swordsmanship from? Speaking of which, actually, I'd love to keep learning if you don't mind..?"

Valeriana blinked, and cut her losses. "Certainly. I will bring the swords when I return."

"Perfect," Harry beamed at her, then sobered again. "Really, you've done tons for me, and I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden. Just... let me know if there's anything I can do for you, okay? Or if you feel shortchanged?"

"Very well," Valeriana conceded, still feeling that he gave far more than she could ever return. He seemed satisfied with that, however, and Valeriana left in a pensive mood.

It was incredible to her, that such a wizard should be unable to see his own worth. He had defeated Voldemort HOW many times before meeting her, yet felt like without her he would have stood no chance? She wondered rather darkly who had given him that impression. It was good to know that he valued her assistance, indeed seemed deeply grateful for her support, but disquieting that he felt himself incapable of dealing with things on his own. Perhaps his independent studies and a high score on his NEWTs would help; Valeriana didn't doubt that he would score well on his tests, and perhaps that would boost his sense of self-worth. For the rest, traveling should help; getting out of the bubble that was the British magical community and into the broader world, where he could experience other cultures and mindsets.

With this, however, she felt it would be wisest for them to travel first to a place where she was unfamiliar with the customs and language, for then Harry would be unable to rely on her for guidance. There was nothing quite like being at sea for discovering one's abilities.

Shaking her head, Valeriana picked up her pace; at this rate she would be late to lunch, and appearances had to be maintained. She wondered if Harry felt guilty also for her daily run, and resolved to bring up the topic again that night. She actually rather liked the exercise; it burnt off the extra energy from her feeding, since she didn't need to run before eating with Harry providing the meal. Though running together would be a thought... after all, physical exercise was important, even if wizards put no value on it. Valeriana snorted. Fools.

OoOoO

As the year passed they grew steadily more attuned to each other, Valeriana learning that while she needed emotional support, Harry deeply valued her helping him better himself, whether with knowledge, magic or physical skills, and found it hard to grasp that simply thanking her with a beaming smile could be more than enough reward for her even if she didn't find the pursuits themselves rewarding.

She did, however, find his studies quite enjoyable, and learned nearly as much as he did. After the Christmas holidays she began to return to Hogwarts only for her lectures; Dumbledore tried to corner her into an explanation, but she blandly remarked that staff weren't required to live in the castle and that she had found another residence she preferred. His veiled question about her no longer joining them for meals she shrugged off with an answer that insinuated that the magical sky of the Great Hall had let in enough sunlight to irritate her, and then swept off with a blandly polite farewell.

Harry was both amused and angered by her recounting of that conversation.

The end result, at any rate, was that they spent nearly all of every day together, though Valeriana was careful to give him some time to himself; they had yet to have their first fight, and though it was inevitable that they would argue Valeriana hoped to avoid it as long as possible.

The time he used to practice his spellwork was time she spent working on her own magic, which continued to grow stronger with each feeding. It was an entirely new aspect she was unused to, and she learned nearly as much from his books as he did, simply applying the lessons in different ways. He would likely always be superior to her in magical terms – which she was pleased to make clear to him in their sparring sessions – and applied himself diligently to his other subjects, seeming increasingly confident in his own abilities. The original plan had been to hire private tutors, but it only took two weeks of persistent applications for Harry to block owl mail and resolve to learn everything on his own, and so far it appeared to be working out well.

Living with Harry also was rewarding in that he was still a young person keen on trying out new things; such as celebrating Christmas together, a festivity she had never experienced as the British celebrated it. She was happy to indulge him, aiding him in stringing conjured garlands over the banisters, cutting and carrying a pine tree, decorating it with a variety of baubles and candles charmed to never go out or burn anything but the wick, cooking Christmas dinner (for which they stringently followed the instructions in the cookbook and, according to Harry, did quite well), and exchanging gifts. Valeriana was surprised and touched to find that his friends had thought to get her something – she had sent Hermione several books and Ronald a wooden practice sword and dummy (both shrunk by Harry), but hadn't expected the students to give her something as well. The set of stamps with ink that would change color depending on the grade awarded was as amusing as it was useful, and the book "Hogwarts: A History" was one Valeriana had been meaning to read but hadn't gotten around to yet, so she was pleased to send back sincere notes of gratitude to the givers.

The question of what to get Harry had cost her a bit more thought than the presents for his friends, but it hadn't taken her long to decide on a backpack charmed for traveling. She herself had the pockets of her sweaters charmed to hold everything she wanted them to, up to and including her set of swords, but thought Harry might like the Muggle practicality of a backpack with enough pockets to hold everything that might catch his eye.

The pockets were also good for including smaller presents within the big one, of course, and Harry seemed rather pleased with the compass, water bottle and gift card for a piercing parlor, insisting on going to get their ears pierced as soon as the parlor opened again. (She rather liked how he looked with the communication earring glinting in his ear, and he seemed to return the sentiment in equal measure.)

He, in turn, gave her a very high-quality selection of chocolates, a necklace to match their earrings, and a sweater so huge and fuzzy that Valeriana just wanted to burrow into it and never reappear. Harry seemed to find it very amusing that she would like baggy and soft clothing so much, but while she liked silky and fine fabrics as much as the next lady, there was something so comforting about soft fabric against your skin.

Besides, it had the added benefit that Harry enjoyed it nearly as much as she did.

Other festivities passed in much the same way, the days coming and going, and before they knew it Harry was taking his examinations, a full year ahead of his former classmates and nervous but confident. The results came in a timely manner, Harry exultant over his Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and pleased with his other grades.

And with that, there was nothing to keep them in Britain.

"Where shall we go?" Harry beamed at her, NEWT scores still in hand, and she felt a proud smile creep onto her face.

"Wherever we want, my light. Where would you like to go?"

"Japan," Harry answered promptly, still beaming. "Can we?"

"Certainly." She reached out a hand to cup his cheek, Harry leaning into the touch, and briefly considered her decision from some months before to first go somewhere he would not be able to depend on her. "Let us go via China; I would enjoy entering Japan by boat, as I did so many years ago, if you do not mind the detour." She didn't know more than a few words of Chinese, and her pronunciation had always been rather poor, so that seemed a sensible place to start. Besides, it _would_ be nice to return to Japan the same way she had first seen it.

"Sounds good," Harry grinned, slipping closer to catch her lips in a kiss. "Let's visit Ron and Hermione," he murmured against her lips, "then catch the first plane to China. Or portkey?"

Valeriana paused. "Do you even have a passport, little one?"

Harry merely blinked at her.

"I will assume that is a no," she said drily. "That would be an important first step, then. You will not get particularly far without one, unless you are content to confund people on your travels and risk breaking the Statute of Secrecy, which would perhaps be unwise."

Harry laughed. "Okay, we'll do that first, then. Do you have one?"

"I have several. All false, of course; it is simply not natural for a human to have my date of birth in their passport."

Harry laughed again at that, and leaned back in.

OoOoO

Another month later, Harry hefted his rucksack more securely onto his shoulder and grinned up at her.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she concurred, and they stepped out of the house together, off to the first country on their itinerary. Valeriana wondered what might await them there.

OoOoO

A/N: Surprise update! Some time ago I wrote the very beginning of this based on the quote below, and ended up continuing until I had written up their entire first year together from Valeriana's point of view. I trimmed it a lot (I strongly dislike fics that simply rehash information and action that the readers have already been given before), and really enjoyed laying out for you some of the hidden aspects of Valeriana's character, the struggles hidden behind that cool mask, and some revelations previously unexplained. Such as how she got her hands on those horcruxes! And her reaction to their heart-pounding first run together. *Bites lip with a grin*

I am working on future installments, so… look forward to more! Here the quote that inspired this brief chapter:

"There's a Japanese phrase that I like: 'koi no yokan'.  
It doesn't mean love at first sight. It's closer to love at second sight. It's the feeling when you meet someone that you're going to fall in love with them. Maybe you don't love them right away, but it's inevitable that you will."  
— Nicola Yoon, The Sun is Also a Star


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